love googles
i have googled your name and i have written down every URL hit onto a napkin.
i have taken this napkin and i have mailed it to myself.
this napkin will be the copyrighted proof for the poem that i will write about the time i googled your name and made a poem about every URL i found.
one day you will be googling your name
and you will find this poem and think i am weird.
you will read it and try to remember all the things i ever said that were weird.
then i will be behind you when you are reading it and i will say something that under normal circumstances would be okay but when taken in the context of my having creeped up behind you when you weren't looking, it will not be so normal and you will be scared and toss whatever is in your hand into the air because of the sheer amount of shock.
one morning i will walk into the forest outside your window, naked
i will take twigs and mud and make a hut.
i will google your name on my iPhone
i will pull up a picture of you and save it as a screensaver
and then i will sleep with it next to me in my hut in the forest.
i will kill things and eat them and not shave my face.
every morning i will stand at the mouth of the forest
so that you can see me and realize how long i have actually been living in the forest by the size of my beard and the length of my hair and it will be shocking because there will be something physical and concrete to point to the abstract and you will realize that this is love and that this is the only time you have ever been loved and that you deserved to be loved, that you deserve to be loved by me, naked, in the forest, and googling your name on my iPhone.
i have taken this napkin and i have mailed it to myself.
this napkin will be the copyrighted proof for the poem that i will write about the time i googled your name and made a poem about every URL i found.
one day you will be googling your name
and you will find this poem and think i am weird.
you will read it and try to remember all the things i ever said that were weird.
then i will be behind you when you are reading it and i will say something that under normal circumstances would be okay but when taken in the context of my having creeped up behind you when you weren't looking, it will not be so normal and you will be scared and toss whatever is in your hand into the air because of the sheer amount of shock.
one morning i will walk into the forest outside your window, naked
i will take twigs and mud and make a hut.
i will google your name on my iPhone
i will pull up a picture of you and save it as a screensaver
and then i will sleep with it next to me in my hut in the forest.
i will kill things and eat them and not shave my face.
every morning i will stand at the mouth of the forest
so that you can see me and realize how long i have actually been living in the forest by the size of my beard and the length of my hair and it will be shocking because there will be something physical and concrete to point to the abstract and you will realize that this is love and that this is the only time you have ever been loved and that you deserved to be loved, that you deserve to be loved by me, naked, in the forest, and googling your name on my iPhone.
Labels: poems
posted by wagner israel cilio iii @ 8:31 PM
6 Comments:
i read this while high and it feels like my favorite thing i've ever read.
in your interview, you avoided "the" heavy question.
normally, when people talk about me, I enjoy it, but in this case, I wanted to hear your answer.
i love the way you intermingle the high-tech and primitive.
4 comments.
this is blog is now legit.
anonymous: i am glad you enjoyed my work while high. even though i know who you are because you IM'd me to tell me your identity.
ryan: ok.
huber: you left your body wash and tooth paste in my house, both of which am ruthlessly abusing.
alicia: intermingling the high-tech with the primitive connotes an existential crisis that i identify with as human being, attempting to communicate primordial impulses such as violence, lust, hatred, and greed through the amalgamated word-symbol "love". ernest hemingway calls it the sign of a 'mature' writer. i read this somewhere.
I realize this is creepy. But it makes me feel snuggly. Like I could climb up in that giant beard and take a nap in the forest of hair growing on the tip of your chinny chin chin.
anonymous 2: this is not creepy in the slightest. i feel very happy with you for what you have said and if you let me i would like to buy you a cheese omelet and talk with you all night, regardless of gender.
srzly.
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