the might've been birthday

would have been (past subjunctive, ie wishin' and hopin') may the 31st, 2008.





but, instead, on sunday, when i got home, i began to bleed and didnt stop until 18 hours later, by which time i was no longer pregnant. the things we plan, the things we hope for, are as actual as cornmeal or cement.





there is no maybe. or partly. it is gross misunderstanding to imagine what we do and say or intend isnt as solid as a laundry line that has hung through a whole season of rains and football in the yard-- it's just bullshit. seperation is a lie.



what i mean is, it only happened yesterday. i couldnt decide what to say to anyone, to family, to friends, to people who are expecting me to do what i said i would beforehand.



this is my happy birthday for a child i will not have, and a life that will still have to be something else instead.



(visit the artist at www.myspace.com/joydreaming)