Read a poem by another poet written
on the same day:

Journal of the Wounded Goo

I am incomplete           outside
car door slam
dreams of handsome strangers
settling for you
chasing sheep

          sometimes I turn and you
                    look like forever
          little boy           little boy
I'm trying to look people in the eyes
when I talk          I look away not out of fear
of uncomfort
it's just a way to hide
contradicting nectarines

          the turrets-syndrome hooker works
the south side of our street.  the younger,
taller, quieter hooker works our side.
          my color is off
a night of apologizing to poetry

a night of waiting to be entertained
a night of I've had enough
a night of approaching someone to say
          a kind word
a night of turning away from someone's anger
a night of ignoring the middle aged dude as
          he approached me reading at the counter
night of double-take on the fool moon
night of wishing something were over
of parking spaces
bridges, ferry boats and water
night of shrugging lack of recognition
night of the day after the "plate glass window" incident
night of feeling my age
night of          def poety jam
scanning personal ads
wearing my favorite cowboy shirt
wanting to be farther and farther away
from the redi-                    in(sanity)
            culous waste
            of sound
waking up today to early light, pastures
          rooster calls and chickens that
lay little blue eggs
a baker's dozen means I
can come too
oh yes - gift boxes
          music mix tapes
          books, poems, road treats
I have a gift for you
you do not           do
unless you do
                    This way, the traffic signals
                       always look familiar
this way I can have my night
and eat it too
          this way          the word
reminds me to think about you
when you've gone.