hey do you remember when we got drunk behind that gas station and that ex cult leader told us to run down the street into that weird four in the morning haze and you fuckin read that flarf poem to that hobo cowboy out near the field and then we were sitting under that big ass sycamore tree and you could’ve kissed me i was dating connor but you could’ve kissed me i would’ve let you in all of that unraveling moonlight with the cars rolling past us and you had my hand and i think you’re really scared of not knowing if people like you or not and sometimes i wish i could take that away from you because i like you ken and i’ve liked you ever since you were in hair in minneapolis and i can’t believe i’m telling you this now after all this shit has happened but you are good and all the poems you wrote about me are fucking insanely good i cry everytime i read them and never thought that someone could take all of this bullshit internet writing and turn it into this weird ass shamanic charles olson projective verse archives of youtube references as if a poem could be a self-contained library or some shit like that lol like are you supposed to be the internet itself?

i had watched this british film where the entire film was was from the perspective of a forest like the setting as protagonist and i thought about you and how you could think about the internet as a forest that language could walk through and i wonder what you’ve must’ve seen there i fucking wonder about it dude

19 July 2025