Monday, August 02, 2010

I’m Thinking Of A Room With A Calculator



I’m standing at a broken window, my hand against the crack.
Outside, there are lights below in the darkness. Did someone throw
a stone? Was it a bird? Did some imperceptible earthquake
flex the frame just enough to fracture an invisible fault?
I’m standing at a broken window, my hand against the crack.
Should I go back to bed? Should I go outside and look around?
Should I be angry? Maybe curious? Concerned? Should I pray?
Should I nail boards over the window now that the glass is cracked?
I’m standing at a broken window, my hand against the crack.
Outside, there are celebrities and farms, animals and wires,
car crashes and flower gardens. In here there’s a bed and night stand
with a lamp, a closet full of clothing, a television,
a calculator, a guitar, some books and a doorway out.
I’m standing at a broken window, my hand against the crack.
The glass is cool under my skin. The crack is sharp. I didn’t
feel any pain but a drop of blood is running down the glass.
The blood is a dark shade of red running down against the night.
I wish some crazy serial killer would lure me outside
so I could go out for a big, dramatic fight. Or I wish
I was so tired I could flop back on my bed and go to sleep.
I’m standing at a broken window, my hand against the crack.
It’s night, I’m bleeding and I have no idea what to do.



I’m Standing At A Broken Window









I’m thinking of buying a new calculator.

I’m a numbers guy. I calculate everything.

A new camera would let me take better pictures
but for almost all the images I use here
I would rather put up little watercolors
or little acrylic paintings and post photos
only if a painting is based on a photo.

The guitar I’m using started out as a temp
but I’ve kind of fallen in love with the gypsy
and it plays everything I can think of playing.

The second generation Texas Instruments
Nspire calculators have a letters keypad
for building functions with letters and taking notes.

I don’t like carrying around a computer.

I don’t think of myself as a computer guy.

I’m a numbers guy. A calculating guy. But
I don’t think of myself as a computer guy.

Even if I bought a high-tech MIDI pickup
for my gypsy guitar I wouldn’t hook it up
to my laptop, I’d plug it into my keyboard.

I’m thinking of buying a new calculator.

I’m thinking of a room with a calculator
and paper flowers and a woman wearing lace.

It’s not a photograph. It’s a watercolor.









. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .



Steam And Laughter By The Somewhere Tree


Is This A Junkyard Church


The Epistemology Of Stevie Nicks



TI-Nspire at Wikipedia


2nd Generation Nspire at Texas Instruments





















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