i just wrote this long entry about the time steve asked me to prom on may day y2k. it was so stupid i almost puked all over my keyboard while writing it. luckily pete called me just before i could finish the reflective part, and we discussed important meathead business,which gave me the time to look over what i was writing and realize that nobody but me cares about the magical appearance on my doorstep of tulips and a RHYMING POEM on an ORIGAMI FLOWER one may day when i was 17. i need to start citing pete apparently: he seemed unsure about why anyone would want to read something like that. he also told me about a bank receipt he found in his truck with my writing on it that said: “why won’t you wake up?/ there’s an officer outside/you’re killing me pete.”
which might not rhyme but is a much more urgent poem.