I’ll generally look back over the inventory of SimpleSimon posts once a year. Maybe twice, if a February or March is feeling particularly cold and gray. I enjoy the familiarity of looking at words I’ve read so many times in the past, but having let enough time pass so that it’s not entirely tucked away in my memory. It stays both fresh and familiar that way.

For those who aren’t aware of what SimpleSimon was, it was an email list from Ben. You never knew when to expect the next piece. You never knew what he was going to say. But there would be a bit of prose, a quick burst of poetry – just something sent from some random apartment in New York. They are now collected over at Ben’s site, Never-Ever.net, even though Ben himself is no longer with us.

(I love this writing. Have for years. I’m including a poem below, but encourage you to check out the full collection at Ben’s site.)

Whenever I revisit the list, I wind up finding an entirely different piece that appeals to my mood. Today’s installment (this year’s, should I say?) is Today Could Be. I posted it after the jump.

people want to read stories
and poems and see movies and
they want them to be about
love and finding love and loving
love and losing it

and they tell their stories
and give people these labels
“the one that got away,” that’s
one, and the names and faces
correlate with an idea that
someday love will find them
drinking tea at night
when they’ve already given up looking

so they pretend to give up looking
and they tell themselves,
“i guess i am just one of the sad ones”
and they tie nooses around their necks
swallow too much of something or other
the things they use to kill them

or they will walk around with a glazed face
waiting for the person who recognizes those eyes
to come and step up to them
in the idle highway of the unexpected evening
The Night When Everything Changed:
so they keep markers by their calendars
so the box can be marked immediately,
as soon as the chance comes to do so,
The Day That Everything Changed.

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