«I’d like him to wear boots»
I’d like him to wear boots
(sometimes), thinking they are sexy.
If only for a moment, I should receive happiness. People seem happy when they are in love and I just go about my business pretending not to notice.
Shake me Let’s go back to sleep in each other’s arms.
. Winter is long and too many cold night will keep happiness sounding like a foreign language, unless we never leave this place. Can you even hear me? Even this will one day feel like a distant memory. How lucky other people are, I think, watching your closed eyes dart back and forth. How lucky we are, I guess.
I want to feel taken (for granted).
Sexy, side sore, pierced with arrows;
nothing ever seems to heal,
least of all my
. heart.
If beauty is on the inside, then rip me open & make love to my carcass. Everything is so random, so predetermined. Discard me, disregard me, ignore me until you need me.
I have secrets to whisper in your ear.
Brian Fuchs, “I’d like him to wear boots” from The Theoretical Tiger Society (Scissortail Press, 2021)
Written 13 March 2008 in Anchorage, Alaska


I’ve still got a horrible cold. I’m on the non-stop coughing stage, which makes me sound like a “demon frog” according to a coworker. I’ve spent far too much money on medicine that seems to have done nothing, although it did allow me to work for more than a week.
I’ve spent the day rather sick, popping DayQuil every chance I get and watching countless hours of Charmed & Boston Legal. I’ve downloaded several amazing songs that I discovered while on vacation and got a Costco membership. So, it has been a rather low-key day, but one of the best I’ve had in Alaska in a long time.







{get that sheep out of my mouth}
{nomadic life}