Monday, May 24, 2010

then it all

hi, you,

the change-wind is at
our thighs and necks again
knocked down window-cat's house
in the small closed-off alley between the building's sections,
a humid patch of detritus:
old cat food and bird seed and bird shit,
trickling with tiny insect industry;
it seems i have formed a crude ecosystem
in this narrow column of space

i am tired to imploding but
i am growing things and stroking animals and
my life can be full of beauty and contentment
&: why shouldn't it be
it comes on like a sneeze

Thursday, May 6, 2010

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

CINCO TECHNOLOGY

Today front tire fell off my bike in the middle of an intersection.

immediate thoughts:
fuck! concrete!
god how embarrassing.
are my sunglasses okay? my sunglasses seem bent.

I am banged-the-fuck-up. It is okay, I like noble pain.
I somehow landed on: right temple, right shoulder/elbow/hand, knees (left worse than right; no skin left). My arm hurts like fuck and wouldn't work when I first went to pick up my bike tire, but seems to be okay, just like hitting-your-funny-bone-with-a-hammer neuropathic pain.
My bike: :(

it is funny how i can still feel the rude impact in my sinuses
like i can smell it
it is a word that is harder than hard
it is dry and laconic like lead cracking rock but
imagine it harder

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

need more sleep

I dream about exploring old buildings in new cities, about stumbling into ancient blown-glass washrooms with damp fossil-studded marble and tubes of fluted glass in all colors mimicking the bubbling flow of fountains. Each commode is a blue-green-gold glass lily.

I dream about big white dogs, some curly-coated some smooth, fawning over my attention in dark porch parties of strangers.
I dream that they find out I killed my (stranger) roommate because I found her too annoying; "it just happened." I sprint to the cathedral for sanctuary and almost trip over women in long maroon robes wailing and dragging themselves across the threshold of the chapel.

Sunday, May 2, 2010

the blueberi mule

· "one" "shot" stoli blueberi (measure based on whim)
· juice of 1/2 lime, + slice for garnish
· top with natural cane ginger ale
· over so much ice

It is my new favorite summer-time drink; now I just need a copper cup. That will be a happy day. It is my invention after enjoying an attempt at a moscow mule last night, now there are a trio of excellent flavors (merry, mellow blueberry with lime and ginger jousting on top) paired with the sweetness of replacing ginger beer with ale.

Also my camera is on the fast route to brick-town as its focus (when the lens doesn't see only a psychadelic hot-pink wavy universe) is stuck on macro mode. I achieved the above shot by faking my camera out by offering it the lime a few inches away with the other principal players huddled close behind. I do not know that I could achieve this again. It troubles me, as I will be in Malta in July and if I can't document what is probably the coolest thing to happen to me ever I will just die.

There is now a small dent in the wall where I threw the camera at it. Jauffre just chirp-mewed and tried to paw at it like he thought he saw a bug.

All I want to do is be outside and plant things or maybe just lay