THE TYPEWRITER PROJECT

The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15

Oil etait une fois 2 parisiennes a New York qui , apres un copieux dejeuner chez Kat,z flaf llanaient dans un magnifique parc arbore typewriterr project is realy cool me voila a m new york un 14 juillet la vie est fantastique

bientot 80 mois d,amour ma chere C.

signe S.

The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15

NewYorkfriendlybustlinsteamysfireworksstatue of LibbyBrooklyn Bridge

good bye and thank you

The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15

Skysky sky sky sky trees

trees leaves

summer breeze

sun flowers shower me love, lee

The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15

man mine craft

The Poetry Society of New York 7/13/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/13/15

julian

The Poetry Society of New York 7/13/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/13/15

oliver mama mamai love oliver

auntie bear and faye

The Poetry Society of New York 7/13/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/13/15

today's summer bliss went a littlelike this: sunday traffic jams sweetened

with strawberry rum and lemonade slurpees,

the crush

of sand and seashells, remembering how

the ocean tastes.

The Poetry Society of New York 7/13/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/13/15

Sometimes myheart tastes like bok choy and ginger stardust and 80s moviesfalling asleep to the glow of a macbook pro. pan fry it in vodka in

sesame oil in unwanted attention and worship it like that woman's ass like

jasmine like a dollar dollar bill y'all. serve it with one part scallions,

one part spiked blue pun, one part hand jobs in the dark, one part soy

sauce, one part Confucius & filial piety, one part self-loathing, one part

love.

The Poetry Society of New York 7/13/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/13/15

IM STUPID. MY NAME IS JEREMY AND YOU CAN SUCK THIS DICK. MARY I AS DICK A

TO,MATOE IS TO ATOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSF

The Poetry Society of New York 7/13/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/13/15

GODSONI I A AWESOME

The Poetry Society of New York 7/13/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/13/15

oy yes yes very good s kevin is a me xican 911 boom

the devil was once an angel .......... l

that loved nico but nico didd ldddinjk

The Poetry Society of New York 7/13/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/13/15

life is weird. life. It;s weird. I,ts full of contradictions, fear, sadness, dissssapointment. People leave. People hurt you. Things go wrong. You lose you

r dreams. You lose yourself. And then things happen. It's cyclic and eve

n perversely precdictable at this point.

So there's this boy. And I'm scared he's going to break my heart. I'm sc ared that he'll leave, that WORSE: I'll lose myself. And I don't really kn

ow what to do because I don't believe in love. And I always worry over the

stupidest of things. When ihe does nt call : when it feels like he does n

*t care. It's hard to believe in anyone when you can't even believe in you

rself. It's hard to acecept and to not hurt when all you can do is expect

and hgope and believe.

Maybe it is just easier to leave someone before they can ever leave you.

Maybe that's why it's easier to be with different men each night rather

than be wiith the one man who truly matters.

Maybe that's why it's easier to hide the pain away in drinks : in mindless

actions; in partying.

Maybe that's why it's easier to tell yourself that he does not care a

and that it would just be easier to walk away.

Everyone says they want something real.

I tell myself every single day that I juust want to be happy. Happy

Happiness.

zLet it not matter that I don't make enough moeney.

Let it not matter that I dont have the flattest tummy or the thinnest l

legs. Let is not matter that I've made mistakes in my past : mitakes I wi

ll carry with me for the rest of my life.

I tell myself every day to forgive myself.

To forget about the past.

To takec care of myself.

To experience every part of life.

To learn.

To be conscious.

To respect myself.

To respe t others.

To be that kindness that I know alwats carries me through.

To just be.

Sometimes it;s just hard to listen to what you know is the right thing.

The Poetry Society of New York 7/13/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/13/15

July 13th 2015

Ok so here it begins My retirement from the City of New York Some

would say that at 46 Im to young to be retired buyt hey after 23 years

working for the city my life is now mine to enjoy. The strets are now

now mine to exploreand my time now mine to relish.Its good to type on a

typeweriter r again. I wa s the last one to have one on my desk so I say to

hel with computers and to hel with technology. Tyme for more simpler

pleasures. OK of to the nearest booh kstore and then hit the road to lay

on a beach. Or maybe not . I may just stay in the city and wander ansd

explore the city I have yet to se. The future only knows.

Yours Truly Retired!!!!!!

The Poetry Society of New York 7/13/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/13/15

i hate my job . now i really really hate my job because they just told mei have 2 do overtime! ughhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Poetry Society of New York 7/13/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/13/15

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The Poetry Society of New York 7/13/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/13/15

we became tangled in the lines of our hesitathesitation. the difference in our densitieskept us permantely apart.

words never came so easy or so fast or so hard as when we were apart

you and i were perfectly imperfect and so fucking cliche

when the water rises and i was lost im your wavesand ripped apart by uy

your wide currents.July 13 2015 __

The Poetry Society of New York 7/13/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/13/15

I was running through the park one day and sa w a giant cop titty!

The Poetry Society of New York 7/13/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/13/15

its still cold as hell. i;ve been freeszing my ass off for a very long time. whatever its in me. sometimes i think it will end but it never does

continue on. it doesn;t matter. pretty though. trees are nice. thats green

trees as far as i can see....man this requires a lot more strength then just

typing, thankgood this is now digital. bless keyboards and compouters for a

allowing people without the requisite for arm strengthto write stories.

The Poetry Society of New York 7/12/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/12/15

"that's a good beat she said" as she placed her hand on my chest. words that shook mem to my core. i never felt more alive. soaked to the bone

but all i could feel was the heat of your body . your lips. and the

weight of that moment. she was a hot summer night

even in the dead of winter

The Poetry Society of New York 7/12/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/12/15

bubbut yes! and nooo!wen she said helo!

i tthought tomomorrow

i' ll go!

but when it came time

to say goodbye

a bird i saw

was wont to fly

to the overgrown brush

of here and now

so let it be said to all

who think

the rose is better

when it's pink

that yes! you<re right!

there's timm left still

and over yonder, lies the hill.

sand yonder,,,

and yonder,,,

sand yonder be free

be free

new baby

and close to me

forever is now

it's all there is

forever

and

ever

and ever

ita's beautiful.

and so are you.