Monthly Archives: May 2004
Twenty years and counting
I wonder who I was those first four years of my life without you around to record me. I wonder who you were. If I have a sister it’s you; if I have a conscience it’s you. I’ve spent my life trying to catch up with you and here you go again, 25 before me. … Continue reading
Oh lord, again with the sniveling
We killed a village in Iraq. When did I stop caring about what we’re doing in other countries? I cared last year. I think it was when I realized there was nothing I can do…if we smash the state there will just be another state. History is built on slaughtered villagers. They were celebrating a … Continue reading
The hip bone connected to the
There’s a boy in my class who looks just like Seth Green. Except he is much taller, and perfectly proportioned, and not even vaguely simian. But he has the same hair. Anyway, I spent all of yesterday’s ridiculous immigration discussion eyeing him and wondering what he’d look like without his flesh on. He has great … Continue reading
KRON and bunnies
The winds were breeding like bunny rabbits last night, hip-hopping around on each others’ backs and knocking over small trees, people, the dauntless pigeons. You do not want to try distance spitting for the first time on a night when the winds are going at it in all directions, and that is a life lesson … Continue reading
The topiary of the face
Saw the John Francis yesterday in all his beardy glory. How can he still be attractive with that fretful porpentine of hair clinging to his face? And yet the ladies seem undaunted. Despite my remonstrations, the Lad, too, will be using his chin to smuggle a beard home for me. I was hoping for something … Continue reading
Red roadmaps and inkblots, red polka-dots
Dreamed I was drumming. “Well, fuck me,” I thought, as the song started and I began tapping my sporks on the table frantically. “I have no sense of rhythm. How the hell did I get here?” Woke up to a nosebleed from the stress of the dream. Little butterflies of blood now fluttering around on … Continue reading
You must never wash your hand again
The Lad and Dan met a woman in Athens who knew Henry Miller. Did she know my best friend (and also Robyn’s best friend) Anais Nin? When he comes home, I will kiss the hand of the Lad who shook the hand of the woman who shook the hand of the man who touched the … Continue reading
Ow, my pride
I fell off my own feet again today. It seems that every so often my feet just decide, in the spirit of experimentation and without input from the brain, to try walking on their sides instead of their soles. This is painful but acceptable when barefoot, but when clomping around in ungainly platform sandals which … Continue reading
you know, for kids
If Mary Poppins is real, Burt the chimney sweep is actually a nine year old boy dying of scrotum cancer. And no one can fly.
now look
i seem to like the beats i seem to like to be drinking i seem to be drinking ‘go home work on your papers and sweat all night’ we were told and a girl said ‘gross why do we have to sweat all night?’ thinking of sex we all HOWL. i got the tower, tarot, … Continue reading