taken from notebook scratchings, undated
I am upset.
The stars plot
against us.
My jealously secretive, steady, powerful, subtle
personality is at odds
with your attitude about
love in general.
I hate horoscopes.
II.
In a totally unprecedented
perversion of history,
a piano twinkled.
But instead of light, it was sound
Sound made the world go round
But it made me go numb.
Do you blame me?
III. --Jealousy
Stop looking at her.
Stop not looking at me, being absorbed in me
Stop being somewhere else
Be with me
Talk to me
I want you to look at me
I love seeing your eyes in thought and contemplation
Your pleasure is what I crave
for I have adapted myself to you.
How I wish you would drop your armor
and go dancing with me sometime.
I wait on your decision.
Stop not choosing me.
Choose me.
IV.
I am jealous of / what doesn't know it / is mine and is only mine / in thought. My reality / does not / coincide completely / with the truth. / But I am, at the / same time, sans / delusion. I can tell / a church by / daylight.
V.
Time is precious.
Someone's not generous.
Something's Ambiguous.
(Definitely garrelous.)
Don't be so careless.
Be somewhat friendless.
You'll know what love is.