Greetings From Cancun

Hey tash, I suffered a horrible hang over yesterday, one of those ones where you lay in a dark bathroom with a pillow for 6 hours. Theres a good story of how I got it Ill share with you when I get back.

Another story, it subsequently ends in a hangover as well, although not as bad a one. I got wasted drinking white russians, laying in the surf staring at stars on beautiful warm night. Apparently I wrote haiku because there are several in my memo pad I have no recollection of. Did you know the big dipper is upside down here? Alas, I thought of you and it was somewhat depressing, for a moment I felt contentment, amusement, giddyness, relaxation, pure extatic joy. Then I thought of how you might of all people have shared that feeling with me and it was depressing. Well thats it, if it werent for you I could have lived in that moment forever. You ruined it I hate you. You should come to cancun sometime though, seriously its something else. Take care I love you. But you suck so much. Bitch. Hope alls well Ill talk to you soon, I miss your conversation horribly when I am here.

Yours Truly,

Justin


how peculiar the beginnings
of the most incredulous stories
the strongest intellectual bonds
always sprout from the shadiest stems

were you the dormant seed
and I the scattered sunlight?
our ignorance almost kept us from cultivation

you could not look past my bloodshot eyes
as I smirked in mockery at your football jacket
but, somehow, between the numeric equations
your lady of the time, dear sweet claire,
made us grit our teeth and bare the empty chatter
which would slowly blossom into poetic banter

do you recall the ampitheatre
and the reading of our creative writing
in turn, we each sat in the spotlight

I haven't retained much more than the drone of their voices
but I remember the shake in my own
I kept my chin on my chest, speaking only to my knees

I read, Upside Down
the first piece I've ever confidently called complete
I felt their hushed laughter, their bemused eyes

I also felt the silence when I spoke the last word on the page
slowly I raised my head to the stunned audience
I saw mouths hanging open, and the whites of wide eyes
to the side, Mrs. Mueller grinned gleefully

abruptly, they all began to mumble
some couldn't say more than "what..."
others proclaimed they were lost
a few began to argue amongst themselves
eventually, all eyes settled on me for answers

I immediately spewed excuses
and tried to clarify the confusion to no avail
my replies were reduced to a whisper
as they became as restless as before

next up

before I stood with a sigh
relieved my part was over
I glanced at your silent sneer and smiled
you, at least, honestly admired
oh, how grateful I was for your presence

later that semester
I wrote a single page for my culminating assignment
and skipped out on the final presentation
leaving This Thing Called Talent in Mueller's mailbox
I'm glad I wasn't there for another moment of their shock
when she read forth my most hidden fears, my greatest guilt
but I would have killed to hear your replies
to the classroom of flighty followers and fantasizing fatheads
if I've never said it before
thanks a fucking million, dude.

I still regret that I missed your presentation
I was such a fuck up, such a ruined adolescent
but I read your novel through, and still have it to this day
admiring your ability to do that which I could never
you've always managed to astonish me
please continue to do so


Justin, I am truly touched
to have invaded your mind
as it was absorbed in exotic bliss

this Russian Fox
has never been more gratified
to wear the title
Bitch.