2003-03-26 - 11:24 a.m.

So yesterday i worked. I work at Ben & Jerry's ice cream. My boss showed up, which he does about every two weeks, and he was happy. As happy as he can be. he seems like a sad man. he's funny. But there is a dryness to his voice, a flatness, like life has sucked him up and beat him down.

Last night I was supposed to watch The Boondock Saints with GinaandJenny, but I didn't know for sure. I called them and left a message and then waited for response. I sat in my car and read a Charles Bukowski novel and then they called right before six. I read a little more and went over. I knocked on the door and heard a frightened yelp from the inside. the presence of Rob has been felt.

The weird thing about jenny's apartment is the lack of lighting. Mainly because she chooses it that way. Her main light source is a string of red christmas lights. We start talking about Random things. the weirdness is that i'm attracted to Jenny, but Gina comes with the package. Even though Gina has a boyfriend. But I think that jenny can't operate without Gina. She needs her there in her life to help motivate her. her gothic alternative Tony Robbins.

My other problem is that I'm too sure how much i should be pursuing Jenny because of Aisha. First off Jenny is a little nutty, but so is Aaisha. I like that in a woman. Eccentricities make a person. But i only have so much desire and it used to be divided randomly between several girls. Jenny from poetry, Amelia from poetry, Aisha from poetry, Jenny from Lit., Maurize from Lit., Diana from film, and Jenny from film. Now it has really winded down and very uneven. Aisha has actually shown an attraction to me so she is definitely in the lead. While all the other girls have just been friendly with me. I've held my best conversation with Aisha. And i like a woman that can converse.

So as I sat there and talked with Jenny (and Gina) I have put my own cock block barrier because why should I pursue a woman when I have another beautiful girl that is interested in me. I don't know how much she is, but if she is, I don't want to fuck it up.

So the movie was great, we watched it twice. Once with director's commentary. the guy sound like he was drinking because he kept saying crazier things as the movie went on.

after the movie went on we talked some more. I felt a little like an outsider in the conversation because GinaandJenny have been friends for 8 years and are very close. they have this huge history of characters in their lives that they don't always clue me in on. i've never met college seniors so wrapped up in their high school days.

At about 2:20 we wrap up our conversation. we stand out on the balcony walkway and jenny reaches for the clouds and I make fun of her a bit. She talked about being in a sesna (?) airplane in Hawaii and being able to touch clouds then or touching the for in San Francisco, or clouds when she's on a mountain. But this is Davis CA, 100 feet above sea level. She won't be touching clouds. i then tell the two a Henry Rollins story about Eric the pilot.

I dive home and begin to type in the poem that i wrote for aisha today. She really is a great muse. We had a very interesting night together and she's beautiful, plus she has a crazy militant Islamic background. i like a woman with history. I was raised ina conservative Baptist home. I went to church twice a week and now a whole lot about the Bible. It probably doesn't compare to Aisha's forced knowledge of the qur'an but I can relate. Plus she is a great poet. She writes very surrealistic poetry. I've never read surrealist poetry before. I mean to a varying degree a lot of the images in my work may be a little crazy, but Aisha takes the cake on uniqueness. She has a much more creative mind than I do. she has a "fuck it, I'll as I wish" way about her that really turns me on. i don't like timid woman and that is why i am attracted more to Aisha than Jenny. (I think I just realized that as I wrote it.) Gina speaks up for Jenny, but Aisha says stuff to me that know one does. She heckles me. No one takes the time to heckle me. We flirt like grade school kids.

So I wrote out the poem on the computer and sent it to Aisha. She actually sent me something within the same minute before i sent something to her. Of course I didn't realize this until after I sent my e-mail. So I sent her another e-mail explaining how coincidental the timing of our e-mails was. She didn't respond. Oh Well.

I wrote her this poem.

“The cure is in the kiss”

I've never kissed

another brilliant poet until

I mustered enough guts to

kiss you in the three o'clock morning hour

a few mornings ago.

It had been thousands of hours

since I had kissed someone

and then you placed your lips

in a place that could be in the path of my lips

and I traveled to you on that bed

and your slivers of bloody-pink skin

felt like life after death.

I was beyond humanity

(I was a god and an animal all at once)

as i tasted your breath in my mouth

and as my breath was also in your mouth.

You said that

I didn't kiss

like how you thought I would.

I wondered if you thought my poetry is a lie;

like I'm telling the world that a sack of feathers

is really a bag of concrete.

But I do kiss honestly.

My mouth is the real me.

I kiss like I mean it.

And maybe if you keep kissing me back

you can make my self-loathing extinct

and lick my tongue enough times that you can

infect me with surrealist poetry.

Our spit could mix together and be brilliant.

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