like when you have to sneeze but can't

i am standing in the middle of a scattering of things, and have been feeling this vague and creeping sense of something unpleasant building in me for the last couple of days. today, i finally contacted it, and recognized it as anger.

anger is a feeling that i generally regard as useless, quantified by a relatively high energy to productivity ratio. that is, lots of energy used : little useful things created.

i don't really see a point in attempting to justify this sense, or even go on some sort of internal witch hunt in attempt to find somewhere to pin a ribbon of blame. so what do i do with such a useless and obnoxious feeling? ride it out like a hangover, in bed with gatorade and maple syrup cream of wheat? translate anger into agression and then beat it out of myself on the hockey rink, softball field, or bike path?

looking for solace, i pulled a handful of my favorite poems off the shelf. staceyann chin, bitch, nikki giovanni, and a collection of beat poets (the book wherein i discovered diane diprima). and a book that i haven't looked at in years, inside of which i found a 4 page, handwritten letter. the book is by animal prufrock, and was purchased for me by the woman who had asked me to marry her, during the first several months of our dating, when she went to her first michigan women's music festival and i had to stay home to work. the first third of the letter was about how much fun she was having and how amazing were all of the people she was meeting, out there on her own. later, she writes more, saying that she had somehow offended some people by singing in the dinner line, was stood up by a dinner date, and was having a weird time navigating some drama that was going on with the people she was hanging out with. later still, she writes about the things that she knows i would be loving if i were there. she writes about missing me. when she set off for this festival, i was worried that she would find something amazing and leave me for it. in a way, the amazing thing that she found was a greater understanding of her own capacity and need for intimacy, specifically in regard to her relationship with me, which in turn opened me up even more to her. which worked for us... for a while. the anger that i felt when she left was almost unbearable. that entire summer is a blur in my memory. and now, just 3 years later, i recovered a relic of what we had and the anger that i had pinned on her memory is gone.

so there you have it: instead of a poem written by someone fancy, you got a weird tangent by me. the moral of the story is that even the most blinding anger goes away. eventually. if you let it.

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.
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ok, here you go anyway (because i just re-fell in love with animal prufrock, and even forgave her for that whole susan powter fiasco. jesus, i'm glad that's over)...

"baby
i don't even know you that well
and i miss you like hell
been through high water
chasing
some flashing light
most beautiful flesh i've ever seen
but i got there
a little late
the hook's through your cheek
and i'm pulling hard
against that man's line

i'm pulling for you
but it's up to you
especially now

so here i am
cock calling
cawing
crawling
in my insides
wishing
that you
find your way

wish i could fax you a map
send you a
'get out of jail free'
card
i daydream fast
of possibility
i'm ill with
ephedra
no food
and highway air

i can see you
out on the deck
talking to the trees
please
send her a sign
one more time
open the window
to sunny
peach and blue
to love
more constant than disappointment
to deluxe
home improvement
to freedom
in mothering

if i'm smothering
let me slide
down
warm your beautiful feet
give you a treat

i'm sorry
that all the
shes
chose to leave
and the hes
can't conceive
of your greatness

let it be known
even if
hidden under the last stone
the works of you
the worth of you
the gifts of you
is real"

-animal prufrock