all the restaurants of failed relationships

New Year, whatnot. Thinking about New Year's resolutions. Pointless and arbitrary, we all know, but can't help it. Thomas&Finney have resolved to rock more often. We know we already rock hard, it just needs to happen more frequently. I always resolve to eat out less and cook more. Facing abject poverty, it looks like this one's gonna happen. And for the past few years, following what always proves to be a horrendous stress-filled holiday, I've been resolving to have a serious boyfriend by xmastime of the new year in order to hide out someplace else during the holidays. As this xmas approached this year I contemplated modifying this yearly resolution to avoid a Jackson family xmas in the year 2005: if no serious boyfriend was on the horizon come august or so, I'd invent one. Glen. Mom, there's this boy I've been seeing. His name is Glen. I'm not so sure how I feel about the name Glen, but I'd come up with something. Luckily/Unluckily I think I had a sufficiently craptacular holiday this year to exonerate myself from the next Jackson family xmas with no recourse. So I now just need to be more resolute in writing things. Here's a newish installation in the "Tommy P. and Me" series, which by the way needs a much better name.

Page 7

Our conversations have become so familiar
rendering unnecessary all urges to ferry
thoughts to whispers.

The vapor trail elucidates
the rocket's intentions. Even classified
aircraft leave unclassified wakes.

There is clay underneath
my fingernails. There are vegetable
scraps under your sink.