26 january, 1996

26 January, 1996

a day
and night
riddled with portentions
faculty advisor
ken gergen
injured his leg
out of commission
my ability to bestow academic credit
for my student run swarthmore course
web publishing ethics
in flux
I'm teaching it either way
next tues-day
so I gotta get someone to send out soon word to the students
student council
gatekeeper to all campus e-mail
in a conservative backlash to
all campus love cries blathering
they don't let anything through
that isn't on a schedule
on wednesdays.
pushing on one
she won't believe in me
risk her reputation
the wrath of irate bandwidth misers
for the sake of student best interest
she hands off to the provost
hands off to the registrar
hands off to the deans
the end of the buck -
on the phone,
friday afternoon ten til five
the fervor of belief in my vains
when I'm waiting for them to call me back
I tone vowels to control my energy
pushing persuasion
pushing assistants
their dean will see the light,
if they'll just talk to me
no one is willing to trust
they've got rules
my brother used to say
rules are made to be broken
to create beauty
methinks

itseems
a student run course being neither
academic or student
nobody willing to take responsibility
no believers
finally alma
secretary to dean ngina l.
hangs up on me
I sprint to the administration in a pulse pounding fury
haven't run like that in years
dean ngina told me I made some dean's secretaries cry
shameless relentless
unproductive
she urged me to reapproach the students
try democracy -
phone networking
convince 14 student council members to support
or stuff 1500 mailboxes with paper leaflets.
save the trees;
within five hours
thy will be done
over e-mail
gathering friends in my room
to see alice walker
at borders called
people lining up at five
for a 7pm hour short reading
I'm gonna drive
rush hour two hours
to stand outside a cold window
for a glimpse of a half dreadlock?
lingering in my room,
sharing personal web publishing potential
with a talented poetess
mary
who speaks as from a chink in the wall
quiet
honest
her response catches me off my guard
in my heart
"are you going to have kids?"
torn between one child or many
the chance to leave the world better patered
my father intelligent inaccessable
she's worked in the inner city
with foster children
she thinks I'd make a great father
firm with the kids who need it
kind
she regards me earnest warm long
I am melted
another friend speaks of smoking less pot
enjoys my example
sobriety aids connection between people
"you're so right"
boring parties bearable on bud
should be declined
"you're so right"
but hooks up with a dealer
I earlier connected to a source
and buys a bag instead

no longer shall I enable delusion.
six friends and I honour alice walker
with a dinner instead
ethiopian food - Dahlak
yoni our guide
speaks umheric
orders honey wine
and mango juice
many platters and pancakes
we eat with our hands
raina
stubborn and mystical
rya not always distracted
julia may be the littlest girl
mary soft
occasionally overpowered
and balthezar
alessandri
the second physically handicapped kid
to go through normal school in france
his mom sued the government to permit it
she's written a book
he's prone to leaning in on the table

and speaking slowly

about marxism
feeling fatherly still
I sat at the head of the table
and listened
and talked
return
to swarthmore
to write right.
to party at the barn
off campus dance and hang
brantley
gothboy, poet
beautiful aquarius smart
and effacingly tortured
eighteenth century, bunthorne esque
creasing his brow
you don't respect me
but I amuse you
I respect you as much as I respect everybody else.
the first semester
he ribbed me about my web fame
telling me my face was his desktop wallpaper
he was proud to be in school
with a guy who showed up on a net search for masturbation.
I rib him in turn on his acceptance
into a poetic seminar I was not
we conversation with an ex hayrollette ayla
she agrees I don't like her either
I like everybody
I say
"oh yeah, 'disinterested love.'"
I said that?
"uh-huh."
a nigerian student councilor jude
congratulates me on my class
he voted to send out the all campus e-mail
he thinks the web could change the world
at least his country
the u-s,
we'll buy natural gas from them, and sell them technology
he's glad I'm bringing the internet to campus
he wants to audit my course
with a smile
mark
drunk
strides up to me
with his big mouth
and big tongue
and seven o'clock shadow
kisses me long
broken off,
he backs away
turns to the others
calls me a skanky hippy whore

he's kidding
ben
vigoda
hair like I saw in the 10 commandments
side tresses, jewish mystic locks
this boy, guitar wiz
leo prideful
are we arrogant he asks?
humans?
me and you.
he's gone celibate
I admire that
I have trouble with nocturnal emissions
he's only had one wet dream
other portentious dreams,
he didn't write down
he doesn't write
he can't create
now that he can make his guitar do anything
he can do with his voice
what is music?
what should he make?
he will fall in love
with a chick
or god
he agrees,
a lack of faith
like I say I hear voices in my head
when I have sex without belief
I can't do missionary position
too political
(someone catches wind of this
and it becomes a party meme
"he's talking about voices in his head
and the missionary position
of course")
I grasp his hands
we jam with our eyes
enjoy a laughing hug

we've gotten too absurd
and we know it
time to dance
julia interceeds
do you hate me?
sarah jak makes much motion when she sees me
justin justin justin justin justin justin justin!
ooooo!
justin justin justin!
I'm hugging her five foot frame back,
curious after a few minutes of solid squeal
excitedly, shoulders choked on a stocky long blonde gemini
okay
over break I started dreaming again
and I could remember them
my second to last night before we came back,
I dreamt about you
the only swattie in my dreams
it was a war
been in those before
but for the first time, I felt the fear of a hunt
I was walking an apokalyptic landscape
with a three to six person ally army
building's skeletons, skulls
future
like terminator 2 and Full Metal Jacket
gun - whoomp, whoomp
we walk and we find people who are hiding,
and we kill them.
I kill a lot of people. average people.
then you appear.
you're an enemy hologram
a computer program
you're dressed casual
like normal
calm and confident
wearing your toolbelt
you play with the fusebox to our communications technology
I shoot you
I can't kill you
you ask me to stop pestering you.
I shoot you sixteen times
after much patience
you turn to me and say
I'm not programmed for this
but I'm going to kill you
and five shots until I fade out.
she doesn't want to do too much interpritation here
she likes me
its
probably the future of the world and
my insecurities towards you
talking to ayla
she mentioned earlier a hot penis at the party
I'm guessing
why do you care? she asks
anything I don't know
I'm a sucker for it.

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