*working on this

a beating heart can calm a sea pregnant with storm
the flush and rush in the veins can break the blossom seal
fireworks of scent and fecundity locked inthe stop of a blush
a child's smile conceals the life's lies told in the dignified quest to be someone
...

This starts something new. It came to me last night as I was watching my friend's show, King Lear. We'll see where it goes.

at the chapel

short
non-vacation
meant to do more work
didn't have time
there was
painting
face nails
fixing
hair clothes
standing in shoes not meant for standing
smiling through

still
better than being at work

I'm back from Texas. Ah weddings... I think I'm done with them. Or at least being in them.

scatterbrains

i have more energy than!!!!
heard my name. what's that?
FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOODfoodfoodfoodfoodfoodfoodfood
iluvfud
move it
outta my way
what's that?
meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeI'M COMING almostthere here i come
I AM HERE
YOU ARE HERE
YAAAAAAAAAAY jump jump jump jump
run away
run back
jumpjumpjump
screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeam yay yay yay

My mom's dog is hyper with a capital A-D-D.

someday

I'm going to go to Rome. While there, I'm going to meet a beautiful, intelligent Brazilian. We will hit it off right away and be joined at the hip, wink wink, for the rest of the trip. There will be tears and heartbreak when we say goodbye. We will both think that this is it. That we'll be lucky a thousand times over if we ever find what we had with each other. But it's not over. We won't be able to resist each other. We'll maintain a long distance relationship for a few months. I'll hop a plane to see her on a whim. She'll return with me. We'll be in disgusting, domestic bliss until I graduate. With my degree in hand, I will land a job in Brazil. She will have made me fluent in both Portuguese and Spanish by then. I will be very successful at my job. Her dancing and acting career will take off. She'll help me get my novel published. After five years, we'll relocate to New York. The city will have changed. We will have changed. But this is where we belong. And where we'll stay.

That's a helluva plan.

Of course it is. Step one now, book the ticket to Italy.

Dreams! Aspirations! Hopes! Goals! They are good.

what to do

the fridge is full
there is nothing to eat
the house is clean
there is nothing to do
the cat is happy
there is nothing to love
the day is calling
there is nothing to act
the bed is made
there is nothing to fuck
the sun is shining
there is nothing to burn

I'm so ready for a real vacation. Just six more months.

Sidenote: new post up at GirlsGoneWilde.

dream

folding petals block the sun
of yesterday
kittens walk backwards looking for

she rolls
the wooden plank swallows her
into a golden see
far from

Playing with some images.

unused, useful parts

she cleans my third eye with two simple kisses everyday. it's a sanity keeping ritual we have. she feels connected to me, even though i'm gone more than i'm home, and i know that she still loves me.

i have something similar. he leaves his socks on the floor, and i pick them up. they smell of buttered popcorn and mean love.

that might not be the same thing.

i said similar. our daily crazy making ritual! he makes a mess of the house. i clean it up. he watches television. i cook dinner. he embarrasses me in front of my friends, and i apologize and plan great dinner parties to give him just one more chance to fuck them up.

you need a new boyfriend.

husband. this is massachusetts. we're allowed to get married here.

oh. right. did i get that invitation?

there wasn't an invitation. it's apparently bourgeois, like keeping a job for more than 6 months. we just marched our sweet, drunk selves down to the court house and got ourselves hitched. now we get to live in domestic bliss. you and your ladyfriend should do it while you're here! new york recognizes them, you know.

yeeees. i know. i don't think we're there yet. i'm not sure i even want the whole marriage thing. it's so breeder.

oh that reminds me. have you ever thought about being surrogate?

no.

well, we were wondering -

no. i mean. yes, i've thought about it. no, i don't want to do it.

you'd be perfect. we look similar. you could be the wicked cool aunt in NYC.

yeah, no. not interested in renting out the uterus. sorry.

but you're not using it! loan it out to someone that needs it.

my feminist is flaring up.

why?

she's about to explode.

okay. okay. calm her down. "no" it is. but if you change your mind.

no.

okay. jesus. [long, awkward pause] how much longer before they start the show?

I've been asked by a couple of friends to one day be their surrogate. ACK!

growing things

the tomato is overtaking its stake. the parsley is straining to reach light, real light. the cilantro has come back from the brink of death, and the sage does not know how not to grow. the balance of water and food and light and shade is nearly impossible to maintain when you decide to plant everything together. but i guess they know what's was strong. what survives will only be the best. except that i killed something from overwatering one week and something else from underwatering the next week. i think i may have found the balance. it's stressful being this observant. i definitely should not have children.

how so?

if i can't keep a bunch of freakin' plants alive, how can i be trusted with something as important as a child?

children at least make noise when something is wrong. you have a cat, though.

two of them.

right. and how are they?

fine. they need some more mommy time, but fine other than that.

so there you go. you can have kids.

because my cats are lonely but fed?

pretty much.

what about the emotional part of it?

you're going to fuck up your kids somehow. there is no use stressing over it. they'll either love you or hate you in the end.

you should write a book.

ha. ha. why worry about fucking up some non-existent future grown child of yours? maybe it all turns out okay. maybe it's 50/50 or 80/20.

maybe it's just a shitload of therapy.

right. so not so bad. plus kids can be a lot of fun.

and headaches.

but joy!

you want to have a baby, don't you?

yes. specifically i want to have one with you.

we don't even live together.

i know. i don't want one now. but i want to move in together. get "married" or whatever. and have a baby. or adopt a child. i want us to be parents.

i don't...

i know.

then why...

i'm hoping that you'll just think about it. you hardly ever talk about what you want out of this relationship. you know exactly what you want out of your work, but ... what about us?

i don't know.

so think about it and let me know?

okay.

a simple kiss

what's on the menu tonight?

something with tomato and sage, it looks like.

My tomato plant nearly fell over today. It is now tied to the rail on my roof.

a joke

She whispered, "Do you believe me?" A joke was made and regretted. Her eyes grew sad in the middle of her laughter. Both wished to take back the confession, the question, the joke. It hung in the air more potent than her aging dog's farts. The infection could stop and the poison reversed. The joker feared weakness and could not release the apology clogging her airways. She filled the wine glasses and looked as honest as she could muster. "Yes. I believe you." The eyes grew confused. What was believable? She wanted to let go of the self-doubt and hatred, but it was impossible in the face of this sarcasm. The rest of dinner would be just another exercise in self-control. And she had had such high hopes.

People say fucked up things (myself included). I'm trying to learn to be brave enough to ask for explanation. If only I could read minds...

new fallen war

great swells over shouts
static disintegrating into voice into words
run
there is war
run
bubbles pop
air released and lost
new roadblocks littering from feet to horizon
frozen
acrid smell urgent touch
undecided choice
creates survival
on the road of disappearances

I don't even know if this makes any sort of sense. I will sleep someday.

end of the

jessie spano rears her hydra head
no time
never time
perfect plans thwarted by imperfect
roads buses schedules
and three more things to check off
before bed
or not

can i stay awake
or get up in the morning
how much time do i really need
what is flexibility

excited suns will set over lingering moons
and songs will wait until
ripening time gives them their cue
tomorrow comes without care
of a list

bodies beg for rest and must be obeyed

I just got back from Texas, but I still need a vacation. A real one. November cannot get here fast enough.

landings

fly above the
daisy fields
look to the horizon

the emerald green city
a nucleus
highways and byways
pierce the epicenter

two days here
never enough

ease but not rest
memory without connection
a past lost to a future
flashing "No Vacancy"

here, as the wheels
begin to rest
and parental voices wait
on the line
near the car
with an embrace at hand,
here a story can
begin again

it already has

I'm back from my HS Reunion and feeling disconnected and somewhat dissociative.

memory lost

pictures of someone else that became me
wondering / remembering at the turmoil
behind the smiles of captured moments
it is possible to be happy
for me to be happy
to have joy
unmistakable it is there
i feel so betrayed

Just going through a picture album my sister made for me. Good memories. Forgotten memories. Sometimes it is hard to recognize me in that little person. She still makes me smile though.

under the magnolia tree

The dog asked the cat if it was nice under the magnolia tree. She was uncomfortable. It gets better. It's a big change to be here, but it's not so bad. Being a watcher. The dog could see better than she had in years. That happens. The body falls away and the spirit senses take over and expand. She watched her body flow away into the trees roots and up to the leaves. Visibly the tree grew stronger. I made that tree what it is today. You get to make it what it is tomorrow. She wanted to know if she would be here forever. Impossible to stay. I haven't been here forever yet, so how could I really know? What did the cat think, though? It's nice under the tree. I wish my girl would sit next to me though. She stares, remembers. Sometimes she cries. Or smiles. I just would like her to sit here. She doesn't have to talk to me or do anything really. Just sit. Be near me. The dog wanted to move and run and swim and... It takes time, but you will get used to the waiting. I'm happy to have the company though. The quiet and the solitude are the hardest. So if this is forever, it is forever with me. The dog thought that would be fine. Good. Now, watch your first sunset. You won't want to miss these.

Before she could ask, the sun splintered into thousands of grains of light, playing and toying with the objects of the yard. The sand passed through the dog, the cat, the earth and laughed its journey home. Yes, these would be the highlights of her waiting, of her death. An adequate replacement for her beating heart and the hand of her human petting her. An adequate way mark the time.

My dog had a stroke two nights ago, and my parents had to put her to sleep yesterday. She was 15 years old. They buried her next to my cat. I miss them both.

worthy cause

it was time for a break. she had worked herself nearly sick. time to let herself stop. time to let herself rest. time to let herself heal. the world would move on; she could grow in this stasis. she feared being forgotten and becoming worthless. if she stopped moving would her life lose its meaning? was this pause something weak in her? this plague of thoughts infected the decision, but it was made. she would let herself be. she would trust that a future was there for her, waiting.

Melissa McEwan over at Shakesville is taking a break. You can read the reason there. I used this as the impetus to start exploring why I feel that I cannot allow myself to stop or to slow down, that I need to be a perpetual motion activist machine and give away every spare moment I have. Like she has done so many times since I started reading her blog, Melissa McEwan has caused me to think and examine my world. What I have learned now is: I am a worthy cause. My physical and mental health are deserving of my time and efforts. Thank you to Shakesville's blogmistress for her work and for having the strength to take a break. All In.

intervention!

Cat hair was everywhere, and it was against the rules to wear shoes in the house. Most people would have cleaned the floors and warned their guests against wearing black, but I suppose you can't be too picky when you are going to an intervention. I still had no idea why I had to be there. I mean I barely knew the boy. Just because you grew up together... Plus, do I really look like someone that would have friends who need an intervention? Kate, would you be doll and get me another mint julip? So anyway, we all had to sit around in a circle and blah blah blah. That's where I tuned out and started thinking about that movie... oh, what's it called? But I'm a Cheerleader! They have this scene where they talk about how the main girl exhibiting lesbian behavior and they ship her off to gay rehab. It was such a hoot. Thank you, dear. Did you want anything, Sissy? Kate, can you get her some water? Well, there I am playing that scene in my head and suddenly everyone is looking at me, so clearly it's my turn. I have no idea what to say. So I stare back at them. And they stare at me. And I keep staring back. Not a one of us blinked. I start racking my brain for something to say. I really have no idea why I was there. So finally after about 5 minutes of staring, I announce that I have to go to the bathroom. I screw the top back on my flask, walk down the hall, and crawl out the window. They probably heard me start the car and drive off, but I just could not stay there any longer. Next time I get invited to one of these things, I will be sure to schedule something at the exact same time. They are such a buzzkill.

Interventions terrify me. Probably because I have been close to being the subject of one. I imagine that the real story behind this tale is that it was actually the character's intervention. This was probably on my mind because a friend of mine celebrated her first soberversary this past weekend, but the opening line is from me trying to keep my cat's hair from taking over the apartment. It is a losing battle.

new green

A small shoot of green pushing up through the damp, potted earth was all zhe needed to change the day. The Sisyphean day job nearly had broken hir, but this one little bit of life that zhe had been watching for for nearly twenty days cracked the wear-worn visage that had become every day's accessory. It was just a little bit better. Here was something to watch grow, to nurture, to distract. A folded stem slowly rolling into the sun. Becoming itself, the plant entered the future microcosmic circle of life that would filled hir apartment. Zhe longed for a backyard in which to create a garden, but for today, this shy bit of green would do.

I have not killed off all of my plants yet, and actually my tomato is doing quite well. I just seem to have a special knack for killing off basil, but I'll keep trying.

picture a mystery

Polaroids were everywhere. No pictures, just exposed film. Shadows and light gave some sense of shape, but there was no organization, no line, only an impression. The work had to have been done in the dark. Each one set on the floor or the wall or the ceiling. Zhe must have started there so as not to disturb the groundlings. Had there been a remote or something to turn on the lights? Maybe it was a surprise, the artist caught in hir by her own work in the midst of creation. It seemed likely. The ceiling and upper-wall ones had a controlled chaos, but everything within reach of an average adult arm seemed had landed in its current place by sheer accident. Self-destruction or struggle? That is the question.

I really don't know where this came from, but I kind of want to try this art piece. However, I would have to do it in my bathroom. It's the only place where it could get dark enough to set everything.

blinking code

blinking, the lights
catch draw attention

only a warning

commands are static
glaring

easily missed and dismissed

Sorry this is late. I wasn't feeling so great, but I'm much better now.

notes to a stranger

Secrets were everywhere. She liked to hide in the open air. Private thoughts placed on placid strangers. They slept or turned away, and, oop, into their pocket her embarrassment went. Oh the release. Oh the freedom. To open the cage, to just get that obsession or judgment or sadness or rage or hopelessness outside of her body.

I don't believe I'll ever fall in love.
No matter how much I do, the fact that I'm not thin makes me feel like a failure.
I'm so disappointed that my parents are human.
Why do I need validation from someone else to feel complete?

Each one made the day a little bit stronger or brighter and wove her self into the city.

If you have not read PostSecret, you really should check it out. Getting things outside of my body is essential to keeping myself as sane as possible.

for dr. tiller

for trusting women
for refusing to quit
for facing the threats
the assaults
the bombs
the bullets
beyond this world
whatever life follows here
may you have rest
may you have joy
may you know
how we miss you
and are poorer for your loss
but march on in your name

The murder of Dr. Tiller really hit me hard. I still don't know how to process it.

when pussy won't sleep

my pussy makes me crazy
she's been bad, the house is a mess
that band she can't give up
she plays it and plays it and plays it
over over over over over over over over over over over
and just looks at me
when i groan
when i moan
when i'm done
she still wants to play
reason and logic and visual aids
can't make her stop
won't make her stop
begging and pleading
no change of mind
she just keeps going until she
pops her top

My cat likes to play late at night when I'm trying to sleep. Occasionally, this is a problem. But that's not what I'm talking about in these lines at all.