Talking with Strangers

I've been vowing to write more. I'm having some major creative issues musically -- that is to say, I've been playing every day again for the first time in years, and feeling worse and worse about what's happening -- so I still need a creative outlet. Not to mention, I really like to write. Before I was a composer, I used to stay up until 4 in the morning writing prose. (And then one day, I started staying up until 4 in the morning writing music.)

ANYWAY...I've been writing some poetry, some prose, some reflections...nothing I've been quite ready to put here, but I did read some of my already-written poems -- some for inspiration, and to edit some (because let's be honest, some of 'em aren't good...)

Here's one of my favorites. (I wrote it for class in December of '08 and got a great reaction -- partially because it was unlike any of the other poems I'd written for class, and partially because I pulled off the fast-talking dialect of the italics aloud as I'd heard it in my head and people weren't used to me reading like that. I only hope they liked the poem...but anyway...without further ado...)

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Talking with Strangers

He ain't afraid to mess up, I guess.
He's got that angular shit down,
but he sure ain't no Monk.

Influenced by Oscar? Bullshit!
He ain't got chops.
He slams his arms on the keys
Makin' love like an impotent virgin.

Don't as me;
I kinda dig him.

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(I guess people were also kinda stunned by the phrase "making love like an impotent virgin." But with some of the other phrases I coined in that class, it was all building up to that...)