No no no no no no no no no no no no no. WHY, T. WHY. Why do you have to send an email while drunk why why why why why why why.

On Finding Bloodstains in My Notebook After a Bad Party
Alan Dugan

The bloodstains on this page
are islands made asleep
by strangers. Not of my knife
or knowing, they appear
as Thule did to mariners
lost in the monstered maps
of medieval cartography.
So, however here, be here,
as proof or fiction that
a secret brother dreams
while I’m awake
and wakes up while I sleep,
as mapper, sea-self, twin,
who navigates a course for me
from here to the Bloodlust Isles
so I can wake up as a liar,
not knowing where I’ve been.

Story of my life.

On A Seven-Day Diary
Alan Dugan

Oh I got up and went to work
and worked and came back home
and ate and talked and went to sleep.
Then I got up and went to work
and worked and came back home
from work and ate and slept.
Then I got up and went to work
and worked and came back home
and ate and watched a show and slept.
Then I got up and went to work
and worked and came back home
and ate steak and went to sleep.
Then I got up and went to work
and worked and came back home
and ate and fucked and went to sleep.
Then it was Saturday, Saturday, Saturday!
Love must be the reason for the week!
We went shopping! I saw clouds!
The children explained everything!
I could talk about the main thing!
What did I drink on Saturday night
that lost the first, best half of Sunday?
The last half wasn’t worth this ‘word.’
Then I got up and went to work
and worked and came back home
from work and ate and went to sleep,
refreshed but tired by the weekend.