Thursday, February 26, 2009


going well, my mind's a little too obtuse, I'm a little displaced.
I won't have internet at the new apartment until ??? next week.  I don't understand why tv/phone/internet companies feel it's necessary to rape you so hard.  I'm talking about fees and "necessary" add-ons.  Aren't they basically providing essential service now?  I don't care for your business practices, media conglomerate.  When is this nation-wide free wifi going to vibrate directly into our brains.  

In my new mailbox there were lady catalogs and an invitation to a stranger's baby shower.  It's so jarring to consider the life of a rental dwelling; This place was someone's before.  The place I was will be someone else's.  I have to go back and finish grabbing the last few miscellaneous things from my old place, then clean it all.  I am dreading this so much it makes me quivery and nauseous.  How do you deal with seeing the past two and a half years of your life revert to tabula rasa? 
I become terribly attached.  To this and that, to everything.  One of my many great flaws is perhaps an abundance of fondness.     

Hermit crabs.  

I'm kind of retarded lately.  I need to settle.

Monday, February 23, 2009

on being

i've been dancing in the empty space
to fill it with my hips and my arms
and thereby keep the blank walls from crushing me,
every goodbye is a small murder,
i've been avenging them with music,
weeping to chinese operas 
posturing and prowling to african drums,
i've been breathless

Sunday, February 22, 2009

us of t

This show is so goddamn satisfying, sometimes I feel like it was made for me.  Also I love you, Ms. Colette, be my wife.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

just tired i think

Last night I started seeing things and hearing things that were not really there -- not in a delusional hallucinatory sort of way but just... being convinced of seeing someone moving out of the corner of my eye and for that split-second thinking it was real.  Driving home at night I saw people walk out in front of my car and then disappear in an instant.  Hands fluttering waves to me on the edges of my vision.  A man standing in the corner who was really just a shadow.  Creatures outside who were just trees blowing.  I had a conversation with the image of a skull in my kitchen trash can (but it was mostly all on my end).  Echoes in my head.  I closed my eyes and saw a wall of cat eyes, infinite and staring, on the insides of my eyelids.  

I'm not sure what all this means.  

Friday, February 20, 2009

trash can skull

I looked down in the kitchen and started laughing.
Hello, friend.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

i am

how to become a rocket.
I am how to keep going up
the stairs and up.
I am how to make you love me.
I am how I become whole,
a slow becoming, I am
how to swell with juice the fruit
and I am how to drink the juice as well.
I am how a man in the hallway,
singing vamos vamos te amo te amo te amo,
he cuts and stomps the carpet.  
I am how to keep going.
I am how to sit very still and watch
for color and mise en scéne.  
I am how quick bites and slow licks,
tomorrow I am how tomorrow,
as I am how yesterday, I am how today
as well.  I am how to eat with chopsticks.
I am how grape becomes wine.  
I am how to know what but not when.
I am how you are we are steady, let's be okay.

there's just

too much to say, lately.  

Wording or defining it feels undignified, or just
(How does one place oneself &
for what reasons.)

I'll come back to myself eventually, sometimes it is too much to lose a

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Saturday, February 14, 2009

a v day

today's film: Le Mépris

Friday, February 13, 2009

snow day

Boss called me and told me not to come in.  Life is good something.
this photo is unrelated i just felt like staring at it for awhile
don't you

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

just keep working

just keep moving
just keep working
cat with human face
blue swan
bear man
hound dog
some pig
green dragon
(yes rachael i am still sad about that)

My apartment complex is replacing the carpet in our building's hallways.  The floor is all ripped to hell.  It feels like I'm in a movie where my house is being torn down around me, but I keep going on with daily life like nothing out of the ordinary is happening.  

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

"I've got a mechanism for seeing called eyes, for hearing called ears, for speaking called a mouth.  But they feel disconnected.  They don't work together.  A person should feel like he's one individual.  I feel like I'm many different people." -- Ferdinand, Pierrot le fou  

Monday, February 9, 2009


This weekend my boss's wife apparently "cleaned" the office, which involved throwing away my desk calendar on which I've spent months drawing a menagerie of animals, which made me happy, which made me

I am not feeling like a very productive employee today.

Saturday, February 7, 2009


Vertical blinds pulsing 
Stranger eyes always shark eyes,
A mirror sheen, dead and sensing in you 
Stranger blood and strangeness.
A sandpaper handshake.
Salt and pepper skinning.
The princess is not in this tower.
Please try another.

Thursday, February 5, 2009

sex dreams

These aren't very hot or interesting and I'm not writing them to be hot or interesting, I just like to record them as i rarely ever dream anything like this so.

I dreamed I was making out with a black guy in a car, and I decided we needed to go somewhere to get it on, as it were, so I kept taking him to all these places and we'd start getting into it then one of my family members would show up and start talking and laughing or being angry that I was having sex there.  Every time this happened, the guy I was with got younger, and whiter.  Eventually I looked up at him and he had blue eyes and washed-out skin, and looked like he was about 12 years old, and I started laughing and said "I am too old for you."

I was in a bar being hit on by another guy who I didn't know.  He kept trying to get me to come to a party with him but I demurred, even though I remember wanting to.  He had red hair and black eyes that burned.  I finally said no, I need to go, and he looked down at the table covered in empty glassware and picked up a bullet, like for a .22, grabbed me tight and slid it in me, telling me to hang onto it in case I needed it.    

Okay that last one was kind of hot. Dreams are weird.  

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

buried at sea

tentative personal grift, resolution of tissue
barnacles on the hull
descent is a stasis if not a slow sickness
whole things are sinking now, sinking solid
who so ever it was
decent though they were
who she is sleeping with
the fishes
warm sense of woman
and a hallowed homecoming
salted silken whole and hungry
frosted rusty,
slowing, always, slowing,
speak of the colors
quickly now
say the colors

black squirrel

The most exciting thing about my day was seeing a little black squirrel while I was walking through the below-ground-level sculpture garden next to Sheldon.  He was alternating between eating up seeds on the ground under a tree and sitting upright on the concrete bench next to it looking silky and alert.  I sat down on my knees a few feet away and made noises at him because I am an idiot.  It made him nervous but he didn't run away.  He basically looked exactly like this (sans peanut):

I guess they are pretty common elsewhere but I've never seen one in nebraska before.  

If you ever move to another bioregion with me be prepared to see me run around for at least a week in a childlike trance, staring at the local flora and fauna.  

I have to write too much shit tonight.  My wrist is giving me that "hey why don't you google 'carpal tunnel'" feeling again already.  

Tuesday, February 3, 2009


a vessel, and a glued-together
we were as extras in a scene then
talking perhaps with more animation than was
necessary, our sounds washed out by more pressing action, 
the lens upon us but we,
not shallow enough in the water to peer up and out,
mouthed watermelon
i love you
in the fog of unfocus


hot water in the shower
hits my skin and i smell
eucalyptus and roses

dreamed of post-apocalypse reforested world, traveling from settlement to settlement through the vegetation in carts like big black plastic bins the size of horse trailers with the tops cut off, pulled by jeeps like jurassic park ones.  jungle bus jungle bus.  i knew the forest was dangerous for people to enter but along the trail it was idyllic, light filtering through foliage and the only animals around were furry lop-eared rabbits the size of small dogs, nibbling peacefully, some the color of like siamese cats and others different colors, calico, black, cream.


Sunday, February 1, 2009

awkward situation

When your mom is picking you up to go look at an apartment, and you sprint out of your building and see a woman with long hair (like your mom's), sitting in a silver car (like your mom's) right in front where your mom always parks when she comes by, and you run up to it, open the door, say "Hi!" and attempt to get in before hearing a woman's voice go "Wrong car I think!" and look up to see a complete stranger, whose car you are attempting to enter, while your mother is laughing hysterically in the next car.  
Also, dropping a piece of paper in the strange woman's car, making her come back and give it to you.


I got all kinds of things crossed about this apartment, though.  Pleasepleasepleaseplease.  I feel like I should be burning incense at a shrine or divining from the entrails of a sparrow.  

Update: Got the apartment, ma.  Francine here I come.  Mine, bitches.


Haha I got nothin', sorry blog.  
I thought I... I thought I felt like writing but I don't.
I'm optimistic I guess.  That's all.
e: Why is this that text blue, I didn't do that.

Oh my it's February.