let us keep it real

i don't know what i'm doing.
i think too much about things
that don't concern me
* this morning, mosquitoes were abound
on my walk.
"this looks like
the spread of something dire."
how much i should be flinching.
will they stick? they fly well,
don't they?

* a girl
she wore a subway uniform---she
knows condiments---
she was changing a tire. lug nuts
on the ground
of the parking lot
getting off from work
i could change
a tire. no, i couldn't
not without a booklet

and it's kind of cold today
where do mosquitoes think they are?
haven't seen them all summer---
now here they come
have I unpacked my winter clothes?
like my ideas?
I could undress, but
the request
was to unpack
* i'm concerned about white boys
who walk around without jackets,
in short sleeves
i am dating one of these white boys
sans jacket
how do i feel?
how does he feel when i mark him
with the gaze he tutored me on?

i don't know if i'm really a feminist.
yes, i made this transition without
a buffer.
this worries me too.
i'm not smooth and i have no principles.
i don't know if i like the gifts
and if i like being worth the trouble
and if i like to be aesthetically pleasing.
i'm not sure whether i should be
flattered anymore or if i should maintain
that i'm oppressed. i am certain that a
mosquito got me.

i think about smaller things that
seem bigger. that woman with the cheap heels
is deranged. i remember her rant vividly.
she's asian and she talks loudly.
is she me? am i shrill, sometimes irrational,
and actually insane? i'm waiting for a
collective reply.

the woman next to me, not the asian woman,
i keep marking accurately, is black is talking
about keeping it real--- "you know what i'm sayin'?"
no i don't.
no woman is capable of this.
not for the life of me. i can't even admit
my inability to change tires.
part of me knows i can! can't be too hard.

and so i continue to think
and call people up, mostly friends, and ask
them: "am i worth this trouble?"
hoping they don't reply honestly. i know
they won't.
the white boy i'm dating, who doesn't wear
jackets---i'm very curious to see
his winter wardrobe, doesn't need to
reply honestly either.

so i wonder, i ponder, i ruminate:
"is anyone capable of keeping anything real?"
am i simply too young to know better?
what's better?
"that chicken-headed ho better not come
'round my house again with that mess.
i will straight up cut a bitch."
is that better? can't be. seems too upsetting.
the woman next door, the black woman, not the asian woman,
seems fine with this. therefore i am too.
not really.

the future is as fuzzy as this morning.
i had a meager breakfast and coasted
on fumes. i imagine this is what's in store.
i imagine this is what's waiting for me:
a light-headed feeling mixed with irritation.
the future is me lacking substance and only
getting by
on a hotpocket
again, it's barely something to worry about,
but i'm sure i'm mature enough to see
the trouble ahead of me.
i don't know what i'm doing and yet
i walk on like hotpockets are enough and
writting topics of interest and conversation
on my hand
for people, so as to appear half way coherent, is real.
and as i scratch my cold, tired, itchy arm,
i settle into the funk or existential meltdown
that is tuesday.
that's is as real as it gets.

You've read more in the eyes of a child than the book before you.
One is more captivating. I know
you're thinking about what you see. There's nothing here for you.

I averted my eyes and that's how you knew I was lying.
Before then, I stared at you for nearly an hour.
I'd like to think I'm getting better at this.

She fawned
over a man
until she saw disturbing images

I pushed my body against yours until I could barely breathe and it was not enough I wanted to dip my fingers into your body and claim each fiber as my own.

The praying mantis exists.
It was in my hair;
that's how I know.

This is a large brownie.
What if we weren't in love?
I cut it too large
And I were the girl in the front row,
and ate it too fast.
Waving my hand around---shouting answers?
I was slightly hungry
I would have lusted for you
and I didn't eat breakfast to the best
and you would have had to ignore me.
of my ability.
We would have been nothing.
You warned me of this.

Who else is in line
to help distract us
from ourselves?

We do an excellent job
of doing ourselves in.
What we do little of
is doing what makes
us happy.