ínfimo

I, The Futile, Loving You

We walked a lot today.
We talked about God,
and church,
a little bit today.
There was a church,
and I said,
“their marquees are funny,”
and then you started talking about maybe that church
and I said why not ours
and you said you were not into it anyway.
I said it was frustrating,
and sad, how church members
cast this awkward glow on God,
like He is an angry diety
clenching lightning bolts and grinding jaws
at the church picnic where
your potato salad is melting,
but really, the God of my Bible is love.
And I said, it hurts,
when you think salvation means Jesus
but everyone else thinks Jesus means
pointed, dirty fingers
and all you want is love and hope and heaven
for all the people of this Earth,
but really I was thinking, please humor me,
I love you.

Role Reversal

Every word you write or speak,
every arch that your arm makes,
every path that your eyesight takes,
in them I am looking for myself.
I have this theory that I am hidden
somewhere on your person,
you have tucked me in a seam
or let the sun warm my memory on your skin,
a fault line of freckles.
I do not deserve a hair on your head,
and still I ask for your thoughts;
remember me, remember me,
somewhere on the beauty you have found.

Control

Tao Lin’s Myspace account was sold for $8,100.

The internet is weird.

For the millionth time!

four bottles of Coke feels now

like I was fixing the television set,

reaching behind a nest of wires,

and the next thing I know, 

my body is crackling with energy

and then the wires loosen

and my skin turns to powder.

You’re all looking at me like

I’m to blame for the lensions

snaking up and down my body;

maybe I am.  I should have been more careful.

Tonight I will lie awake in bed

wondering what I should have done

instead.