Need to have a better blahg

starting
\now.
B*tch B*tch B*tch I can think of at least three options
for those three. But we've been playing the scrabble card game
and I saw what becomes of FUCK so I know and I knew
words shift /an asterisk doesn't make an absence of possibility
/nothing can do THAT. and

I hope we have that party tonight
/can get home /don't get attacked by terrorists along the way
/maybe

this snow is an anthrax attack not snow.
no.

Schuringa said he saw that Abdulmutallab had his pants open and he was holding a burning object between his legs.

"I pulled the object from him and tried to extinguish the fire with my hands and threw it away," Schuringa said.

He said he managed to pull an object tucked between Abdulmutallab's legs.

This is how I'll remember this xmas
snowed in at my parents' and a terrorist attack
(attempted)

Alright, it's settled.

Peanut Butter Fudge
Christmas Mice
Gingerbread Men
Peppermint Candy Shortbread
Lemon-Almond Biscotti
Glazed Anise Cookies

So far

I have made peanut butter fudge.
Coming:
Peppermint Candy Shortbread
Glazed Anise Cookies
Christmas Mice (?)
Some sort of cookie cutter cookie (?) Maybe gingerbread men (?)

I wonder how much, if any, blood dribbled down to my stomach and is irritating, there.

Okay, disregard

the everythings
and all

The bigger-than theory

Um, disregard that last language play-thing.
Do not regard it even to glance.

Move in a direction
towards teaching me new words.

I love that we are, none of us,
separate persay; but all different parts of an object.

Not an object no. All apart in the stew of the parts of the universe.

Can't ever touch a thing
even when inside of it.

But still all untouching parts of the sameness.

It's not something you get away from. All
in life is an argument. Is a balance
Why
did you say

I have the face of an angel. And then . Don't you realize
You didn't

see it because you say it. Anything she said
you said. Anything she says
I can't embrace.

Spill it or pill it away.
Or can't. Lifted
the rug and brushed the noodles into the trash.

Lifted the rest from the sink
and rinsed.

Skin sinks

or stinks. You have to shower.
Or else no one will want to be your friend.

Make a sink out of skin to shower in? Just because
the letters are the same and it's human. No.
You can't know what is human.

Questions one could ask oneself:

Life is a salad. I don't remember what we called
the table. When does a hatred of rainbows become
pathological?

Ms. Kasper became some married woman I had wanted to be a Barbie/Ken
match-up with that terrible Mr. Vermass. I used to draw. All the kid's
mom's had the hots for him. He hula hooped. Got a red face
from my marker. Maybe
it misremembers me.

Stuck.

Stuck a stuck pig don't
mince words. Don't.

What French will answer.
Jardin. Some
cheese

you're missing from. Vous
manque.
The bottom's where

you go when the attic floor
comes un-stuck
Board

by board. What happens
when you use paper.

Nails pop out.

I was wrong

to wonder what sort of a person I am
to make my mom not like me. It's a trick.
I didn't have to skip writers group/sequester myself
afterall.

controllingparents.com and other books

I've got

a little sadness or something
disappointment frust
ration
because my mom doesn't like me (?)
sometimes or says she doesn't know me
or like me
and that I should have a nice life.

What's up? When your own mom says that? When your umbilical cord was so purple and noodle-y and you came out looking like a perfect zombie baby. When you're just trying to live and be happy and are (besides that)?

Is not going to blame oneself on other people

Is not about to cry
Wonders how far around a bandana goes
Laughs at it, a lot, and even sleeps a little

How the hugeness of the capitol hits you sometimes

Remembered about us calling it the Penis of the Prairie, you know, like you do. And how we laughed saying it was spurting blood and sometimes just all-over engorged and glowing red; you know, like it does. And I laughed at myself, remembering, and how I used to think it was so funny or maybe clever or edgy. To say all that. And then realizing

I still kind of think it's funny...

Suddenly, alongside - Do you remember that one walk we went on? And bought a loaf of the day old Jimmy John's bread? Tried to get in the church? Heard the gays went to the capitol at night and so to stay away? ?
****what*****
***what****
*******what*****
what were we doing?

To Nebraskans and travelers alike, the Capitol is often nicknamed to reference frequent interpretations of the tower posing as a phallic symbol. Historically, however, this title of a phallic symbol attached to a Plains object is more appropriately associated with Chimney Rock in the Nebraska Panhandle.

sincerely,

wikipedia

zombies and witches and godly - o my!

When the glass fogs. When the spider's
blood. When the skin
feathers. And metallic
sing of the clutch-in-
shift-out.

Remember when
my arms began to look this way.
And that fall. That godawful
figure. Appearing while slipping
to sleep.

While singing. When the cold
comes. While the capsule creates
its calming effect.

Any plain Any dark
Moving figure.

Couldn't fear
But knew What might to come.


Over grass and rocks and dry and deep.



What fixes. What
combusts.




Can you flush it? Make it
some voided flesh thing?





When your
comfort

can't be manufactured.

The sun (for J. R. F.)

is rising.
Here come the garbage men.

After experiencing the outside world

I don't want to be in this office anymore !
Good thing I waited till 3 to take my lunch break.

sometimes

I feel like Dexter in the sense of wanting to strap
people to a table and ask them some questions
about how they experience interpersonal reactions.
In the workplace, particularly.
And if they're actually interested in what anyone in particular says.
Most conversations are so
cautious. Dull. Safely banal. And even if not, still
A dance. A playing of roles.

Teach me how to play (I won't kill you after!)

Bought

new running shoes and a candle last night
at Kohl's. Watched Mad Men and then got on
all sleepy To dream about zombies Again?

Because of where our fascination with zombies comes from.
And also because of the maze of cubicles and what if they all
were infected with something I couldn't escape.

Isn't everyone always fighting
some sort of infection? Almost.
Some sort of inappropriate reaction.

It's not really the fact that we're all infecting each other
all the time it's just the fact that any interaction can end
in such embarrassment for me that lasts and lasts and lasts

Am I really that inept or just too harsh a judge? I feel inappropriate for all situations, most of the time. There are some glowing moments.

going

to work to
day.

I've been trying

to write down some words for the group
but it's all coming out like each poem
must solve every thing ever troubling
anyone

Huge bowl of punch

from which I've begun drinking. I'm EATING ALL THE SWAMP DIP WHERE ARE YOU MY SWAMPIES???!!
This is why I shouldn't drink before anyone comes to the party.
Also
receiving trick or treaters (for the first time) was weird.
I kept wanting to say trick or treat ! But that's their line !

Where does one get

DOLL parts ??

It was a screw-top-cap wine

but the man still showed us the label and poured a tiny taste for Eric so he could see if it was to his liking. Ah ha sexism. I was sort of glad it wasn't me, actually. Their wine glasses are huge. And we ate tentacles and tiny fried octopus(es) and the waitress asked us if we were doing something special that night because we looked so nice. Nope. This...is it. Now bring me my Mahi Mahi and bring the gentleman his Chicken. We'll take the creme brulee for dessert, s'il vous plait.

Tonight

we're gonna go to "date night" at JTK. Which is something to look forward to. I plan attempting to hide in my cubicle all day, though I've checked my pants for holes or tears pretty thoroughly. I was movin' around a lot yesterday, though. Tryin' to figure out the speaker situation so I could be dialing in to the teleconference webinar...takin' a walk...goin' to the basement bathroom for more exercise and time spent...walking to the other building's level three to be helpful in packing up pamphlets.
Well. I've got a task this morning that will keep me in my own cubicle (whether the seventh day adventist woman I stole it from likes it or not)!
She took my stapler yesterday :O

Maaannnn

the new job is turning out to be any old job. Plus ripped seams and a pastor who notices. Back into the role of fool!

Cloudy

I remember when I thought I could finish and be things.
Lately I'm just tired all the time. The magic is gone from the words.
I grow petty and pettier, breaking the things I love
because they can't be what my whims desire
in moment by moment flashes. And I try things,
and fail to be anything more or less than a normal human being.
Getting tired. Helping out sometimes. Hurting.

Greasing

Feels too much
in the spotlight.
And oil.

Long nails break
a bit
with flesh when

a water bottle's opened.

Claw nail
scratches particles
from the face. Long face.

Powdered to
a buff beige
matte.

Open each casing
and colors to match.

I feel like

the percentage of responses I get to my postings is directly proportional to the percentage of the time I am interesting (in real life).

The new job is going well; I have my own cubicle, email address, and phone.

Also

most of my issues are ridiculous.
Thank you.

Things look better today.

Maybe because of the two-ish mile run yesterday. The hottubbing. Dinner with friends at an excessively crowded Chili's.
Or being pulled over and ticketed yesterday for expired registration (?)
I haven't been to Chili's since I lived in Omaha.
ALSO Eric's parents are giving us use of another car (because they are awesome) so my transportation issues will be dissolved for a time (once Eric's car is registered and my ticket paid)!!!!

May be starting a new job on Tuesday. Which is stressful in numerous ways. Dreamt about hiding from zombies last night. Eric says I'll probably hate the job but like the money and so be stuck in hating where I am but trying to sustain for that check. Which, upon hearing, made me not want to anything. Possibly also because I've been getting up at 5:40am for the past coupla days and not napping and trying to be normal. That early in the morning is not normal for me.
And what to do about a car. Bundle and bike downtown? If so, will probably cut off all new hair growth and quit wearing makeup. That's one other thing that makes me wary of this transition. Besides the fact that it's not a done deal and still I had to give notice...
Fuck.
Tuesday.
And what and where and how and I have to beg Eric for his car or plan and time the bike in the possible snow and the definite cold...

Have you been poisoning me Against my
self My whole
life?
Need sleep. Need someone to take my shift tomorrow. Need not to have to work on Monday. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK
need my own car.
Need some transport to get to a job to make money to save to buy a car.
Maybe I can ride the bus. I should look into that.



Oh, and, I hate America.

It may actually be the caffeine.

decided

not to leave the house on Sunday, or yesterday.

Maybe the drive to Omaha exhausted. Maybe all the sampling and chatter then BOOM we were gone.

Have been experimenting with sugar substitutes in attempt to determine which, if any, do not cause heart palpitations. Splenda is the devil. Sweet and Low causes cancer in lab rats, but may be okay. I don't think it's the caffeine. It might be the caffeine. And any drinking or smoking I then randomly follow it with.
At least I don't smoke crack! Just a few puffs of Swisher Sweet or an Al Capone.

And I guess you can dip cigars in beer? Particular, barley wine. There's one thing I learned at beer college!

Hmm I think this Sweet and Low may be okay. Besides the potential for cancer, I mean.

Here's some homework: make the connections between the names of sugar substitutes and of prescription drugs! Particularly anti- anxiety and/or depressants. Calm you down, thin you out - then YOU, TOO, can have THE American DREAM!!

Overcaffeinated? Can't be yet not yet.

Bundled way too much for the bike this morning. Must remember to check the weather and dress accordingly- in infinite layers or not.

Opened the wrong store this morning. Force of habit took me to the gas station again and now I work till 1 instead of noon. Which is okay. I have made seven dollars already. Less than five hours to go and then I can workout and launder my clothes and fold them and watch as much TV on the internet as my brain can TAKE--

:)

Dreamt

all this weird fun discombobulated stuff
you know, dreamy.

but Amanda- your parents had this mansion of a mansion we were visiting and your parents were kind of a lot more like evan chambers' parents (from the terrible and hulu available series GREEK) than your own parents.
but we were having dinner there. your mom was making a dinner, she informed me, after i crawled through the dog crawl space in the foyer door and compared it to alice in wonderland. your mom: "that's always the simplest comparison made. I mean...no offense"
(none was taken)
I noticed familiar words on your wall and your parents had dozens of my poems framed and up and honored and then i noticed yours there too - and some of our paired together with hand painted floral flourishes.
downstairs, the rest of the group hadn't realized we were eating amanda's mom's dinner. when i got there you were all eating hunks of pork-like spam (?) and barbeque sauce and cabbage. a sort of stew. mmm
and you directed me to the restrooms - forward on the right! and there was "gentelnen" and "nen"
but no worries because there was also "ladie gooses" and multiple other arrangements. at least 5 restrooms in that neverending basement.

love poems
are
mostly ridiculous

The Roger Harris

Sense in you A me
of parts.

Down the flour.
Oil. Sugar.

Creamed
up dip all
spun.


Before the west
was.

Before my crown
made others furrow

browed.




A seltzering
drink

in the kitchen
with waltz.

I still think there's a way I can get into the groove of this.

There are only so many kinds of vodka one can infuse to make.

when it's you
it's you

it doesn't happen so often that
that is the feeling

and laying on the floor or
standing in the stairwell

the landing

YOU ARE IN EVERY MOVIE AND SHOW OH FUCK

:D :D

:D :D



That was a separation. Don't listen.
Don't.

A1: a

large

and brassy
in the corridor

en-caged.


In the kennel
and bed.








A2: i


A dead one on the table.

Top.

Another.

All the hair on end
en-matting.

Chirping, shining
out. To sing --

About them now
- a partial glow

a broadening
flowering.

on this

mushroom pizza
and pepper onion mushroom pizza

two very different pizzas.
trust me.

Blue

Sky turning orange ___about to be
burning or some sort of light on the line.

What fighting turns away
from___what loving linger
loss. My job

hates me. What I mean to say
I can't.

And ants. Any number
of insects in kitchen _in bedroom
_in back. Twelve in the bowl
when I last ate my waffle.

This morning. This morning means
many chances not. Also

how long. A beeping in night
with dog beside __ Arm over both.


I'll never not love you.

and a lot of times

I sound or come off or seem maybe
derisive
like I'm putting something down
being sarcastic

I swear it's not true. I don't think I've learned yet how to indicate my sincere interest in and/or love for things. There's an accompanying embarrassment. A verbal blushing.

can work days

also be days of leisure? bought the 88cent shampoo. bought some mondo coolers or something, swiss cake rolls, and a bottle of boones.

could be sewing or eating or swimming or workout or bathing for hours on end? could be procuring paper towels. lately i spend a lot of time spraying fruit flies with windex. attempting capture. murdering.

realizing my lack of command of the english language. of proper language, at least, which frightens because then i'm just ignorant - not railing against convention, just doing the things that i'm doing. which is sort of what i've been striving for
and could be the greatest way to be. you cannot lose if you don't play the game (?) all my life advice is coming from movies and tv shows and does that make it mean less? it's some luck what you learn and what sticks.

I guess we could make up the building from bodies. Structure beams of concrete-marrowed bone. Use only the already petrified. Leatherized. Wooden. At first there would be shortages of cartilage or organs. Eventually, when people saw how grand and realized, the middle class'd begin bequeathing bodies. The richer donating money besides. And eyes. Grand chemicals.

These dogs

have invaded our house. And yesterday.
Everything at work was dripping. Water
on everything. Sliming and slipping. The flies,
infesting our house, swarm and land on paper towels
and bread. You're fruit flies, goddamn
fruit flies land on fruit.

Am I the only one who realizes the danger

of talking about
anything you've done or will or plan to?
Of anything created. Of whys.
Not to just anyone! Not to some strange Sarah on the phone for god knows what reason.

I don't have a plan for my life right now. I kind of do, but I don't know how much I can tell the Real Job Police. Cause they probably don't want to hear "I plan to go to grad school to pursue my dream of being a poet"
STAMPED: will-be-leaving, not-dedicated-to-this-job
But people always ask and so I tell them some things. Usually what I think they want to hear. And then if I can't tell what she's wanting, if I can't tell what this job is and how to get it...

I probably should have asked. Asked more and stopped answering the questions about why I chose my college. Where I see myself in 2 or 10 years. I mean, none of my explanations were working. Maybe she was a simpering robot anyway. Maybe one day I will be able to get through an interview without questioning my existence. But maybe I'll become a famous poet recluse. Or even an unknown poet just recluse who picks vegetables all day and roasts some of them and dehydrates the rest.


OH and after talking about my PASSION for WRITING my LOVE of WORDS my DREAM of BECOMING a poet, I was just like
maaaan
fuck all a that shit.

not really. but maybe really. i mean, who knows?!
I just wanna paint trees and watch shows sometimes! (and pick and put up vegetables)

"Colby. I wanna be your girlfriend. More than an electron wants to attach to a proton."

ON a positive note

I've purchased the bars for mandar (be expecting a package within the next whenever I get to the post office...) and
riding to work this morning was like riding through water. Not sure how to convey this...and it wasn't that I was biking that mattered so much, it was just the way the world was, and me in it, and it felt like being underwater. Maybe the combination of cloud/little light/humidity temperature...
It also felt like vacation. There's a particular sort of early morning that always reminds me of vacation. Going to Disney World or Chicago.

I love

when people say "this isn't what they charge me at (insert geographical location of other store)!"

Particularly when they're on their cellphone and are half complaining to me/half bitching to the person on the phone

and I can't explain to them that they're actually getting a better deal than they would any other day because flavor's included for free today

and if they'd look at the fucking menu they wouldn't have to bitch at me and tell the person on the phone all about how inept we are and how they're going to start going someplace else.

Good job, person. Good. Job.

I do not feel well.

I feel tired. And also tired. But other than that, mainly okay.

Oh. My. God.

This GIRL!
She is constantly b*tching that things aren't clean enough, while leaving things not constantly clean enough! And she wrote on my tip cup. That I made. That I f*cking MADE! Defaced it!
With "RUDE! RUDE RUDE RUDE" arrow arrow arrow to where I wrote "TIPS
help us make minimum wage!
Thanks a latte!"
I thought it was dumb and sort of funny. Like anything else. She, apparently, thought it was another thing anyone else does that doesn't measure up. Ruined it with judgmental and permanent marker!
She is obsessed with rudity. And rude herself. And crude - a passive aggressive monster!

Have beautiful days you all the rest of you! :D
I'm off to shower in my tears.

Seriously, motherf*ckers.

What makes you think you get to give me a dollar and then tell me a story about how you want an Obama head to hang from your rearview, glue "rasta hair" on it, sew the head's mouth shut,
when/because(?) you saw the Obama air freshener in the car I drove to work (?)
"Did you hear he's a communist?"
"I heard he's Hitler. Now you have a GREAT day! :D :D :D"

Here, let me be

one of the twelve ways one can be annoying
on Facebook. I'm not on Facebook now
though, fuck, it's open in another tab.
Wasn't that what the article was about anyway? How we're pained, too much, by existing in electrical connection with another and another and about 300 others? About how we have to deal with others' ways even on the internets? Or feel we have to?

I'm not sure I get the issue with repeated boring status updates. Aren't we, most of us, boring if not a little off-putting or just to ourselves? I am so incredibly interested in myself until I'm not and I want to sink within a something else.


Birds flock outside and fly away
in packs. Try to peck through the wall
to live in the roof.

Maybe.



It's how I feel about you, too. Most of you. I want till I feel like I hate you for not or for being
there
in front of me/open arms/looking. Is the moment of loving enough to overcome near constant doubt/destructive urges? Silly girl, it's all


a cyclical something. It's all in motion.
A maintenance of stasis is stagnant and so it's the love love hate thing. It's none of the above as well.


What can you love that hasn't been in love already?
Whom do you hate? Nothing's worth the hating. It's more a want
want
do not want will not
want
ever again and
want.

sometimes

it is difficult to remain positive.

I don't wanna take a ride on your disco stick! D:

I think, once a coffee bean has been roasted, it will never be a tree.

A Thing and also Yesterday

I don't know if I would like you!
Just holding that!
Already liking you!
How could I know IF I'd like you!

I woke up at 5:30 to eat a bit then bike the 50 minute bike to work. I forded a stream with my feet (?) and almost crashed from looking at sliver-moon-+-star-friend and the alien landscape too much when a branch was right in the trail right in front of me. Working 12 hours is really not too bad as long as you're alone and can break for snacks/to watch TV on the internet while doing fake jumprope exercises (I was caught once, but so energized we both just laughed and then I blended and charged!).
Yes. My shoes and socks were soaked from the walking through of the swollen man-made creek area. I taped rags to my feet for the first six or seven hours of my shift. I was caught at that as well. Made one woman uneasy, explained to the next one to enter.

I made it home in record time and watched Doubt, which I think to have really enjoyed. Yes. It's a quality film. Definitely feels like a play. The drama, the scenes. There is a lot unsaid, though, not enough unsaid sometimes. So I liked it. I recommend it. But it is not a "love" thing.
Halfiversary...Ha

Because you've become better, they break
your pieces? And even the ones writing like you
don't like what you're writing sometimes. I've
a trick knee or two elbows. I cut the towel
but not equidistantly. Pieces
will fray and leave lint where you'd rather have no lint.
Where you'd rather not
the small pieces, the trickling.

Truth-o-meter

oo oo baby oo
don't you know you done
me so so so so

wrung out ~ and dried
half way hung out to die
it's been so so so so

so long
run it on
all out of me

This song:

but not so much this man. I prefer the disembodied voice.

87%

humidity

And darkening





lessening now

And lightening

Okay, so this excites me:

Eric is taking part in First Friday. Tomorrow. He'll have stuff up at Indigo Bridge Books through August. Check that shit out!

Oh

gods this ginger
tea is so much spice
in the throat. That thunder
made me check the weather
report online
at 5am. I think I dreamt
you were back. Maybe it's why
I am keeping myself caged up
with the Netflix in this "far
away" house. It's like no one's
left. It's like I'm just
on the outskirts until it's time
to realize actual changes.

Pretty sure

I watch more TV now than I did when I HAD TV.
First three episodes of The Wire last night. Add it to a list of addictions.

Oh what

I recommend Food Inc. to you all

I also recommend a food item:
Pumpernickel bagel topped with the usual cream cheese; then red onion, capers, and garden tomatoes. It is good. Even without the smoked salmon.

When we got back last night there was a bookshelf in the garage built by Eric's Dad that said "Happy Birthday Eric." We're gonna grow things on it, in the window. Also a bag of corn (in the kitchen) was left. I don't work tomorrow or Tuesday, and we're going to dinner at Taste in Omaha Tuesday night for Eric's Birthday Whine dinner I mean Wine dinner.

What have you all of you been up to??
I don't really like question marks either.

This is the first

thing I've started in awhile that I might like tomorrow.

Project begins with

So take
your time can, in time, mean
a meeting.


Weren’t you fit
to seize. Aren’t
you. Foaming

Spitting back up
what you came
from. For the dime

to land
you must unclench
your teeth.

Release each jaw
bone.



Well dreaming

Without ripping
what is night

Without tipping.


“You will pickle in time”


Awhile ago, man
in the mattress.

Without vinegar his pieces
split. Without brine.

Now nightmare
characters eat his bits, bite
him till he twitches

only a little.

Also

Anti-amusement park

Imaginary friends keep
knocking, ringing
the buzzer. I’ve buried
my hand

in the food processor.

In response to blood: gushing

The body stretches
to accommodate. And the green

line appears. The display
is what we’ve been missing

without. From blue to green to
what next. Pieces

removed, along
with the imprint

metal rod within
her pixilated thighs.

I think learning to write, for me, has been an exercise in avoidance. A practice in
blankness
angles
dodging

what to hide
how to make the plebeian
pleasantly unfamiliar(?)

how to fake love(?)while feeling it(?)

how to remove one half of anything.
which half.


I t

"words are history"

what is leading

"without it we know who we are"

not all of those s's

"she couldn't get comfortable without them"

without the s's?

"she couldn't get comfortable. suddenly there were landfills everywhere and nowhere for bones to go"

the way we eat is animal

"and I carried her. I could carry her."

we're cleanly cut

"without what"

without what we are cleanly cut.

I can't quit you...(blushes) even if I do bad things with you.

I'm not about to say I'm writing
to poetry there, though I am

Writing to Writing



There is, right now,one man
here, in this
coffee shop. No Yum Yum
Shoppe, too close to
close - without it couldn't we
disperse.

The ammo, kind of what to eat, or eating
us. They put the cookies

out. With bugs
and sun near churches.

Mistook a back
ery
for bakery
and This

for a bakery at all. What oven.

What squat figure
isn't early enough. Hasn't risen.
Is yeast.

We're never nearly rising
here, instead a shift or prism
instead of

smooth hands, kneading
kneading

I guess you can't be cool

just by trying to be. You're still gonna sweat, gonna get in some uncomfortable situations and say dumb things. Say things. Say "gawd".
Did anyone else read the babysitters' club? And Claudia would say "Oh Lord" or "oh my lord" or something and it was...edgy ?) She was...the artist ?) [I'm imagining Sarah saying those last bits.]
And...shoot...something else
Wine-? Work-? To-fries-? (umlaut there [plus chili powder])
Biscuits!!!
I purchased 10 aprons online today. I cannot wait until they get here(!!!)



Oh yes Oh Yes! Keep confusing sweat with sweet and/or vice versa.
The end/goodnight

Misses Amanda

Oh the first
bicker first then
what would Jesus say
now It Is

a little late
to be raining
to game about

practice

If anything’s a game of every ticking tocking gear shift twist how will we make a thing come
how will we make a tensing of muscles inorgasmic-incapable.
Culpable. Please take your Tussin. I’ll rub you
Maybe
You’ll rub me

If anything’s a game of parts of everything
and how to lock how greased up. Why shouldn’t that wall connect
To that once down the hall or over or under. Three arches.

A portion of chiming - what gets you. What gets you and grows. The moon is sometimes scheming, sometimes laughing. Mostly just moon.

Some sort of medicine you have.
To take with the curtains.
Take down. Down
is the out of this portion.

When you out-plug from the metal you’d been in - you tip. Tipping causes spinal somethings. Somethings on the spine are never good. Or hardly. Scrapes cause pain but not the spine. His arm is showing red and lines – has been rubbed - was raw already.

Let's move

around. Go
places.

Many of these poems are not poems.

What's in a poem.

I don't write poems anymore.

I don't tell the truth.

What's truth. And blah blah identity crisis (not really).




Lately I've been really interested in sustainability/making the earth a healthier place...everything seems to turn into a clusterfuck though (?) You think you're making a difference and the big interests are in front of you everytime influencing you (?) The sugar council (?) I don't know, folks. Don't eat anything that contains more than five ingredients. Unless they are actual ingredients and non-hydrogenated at that. No high fructose corn syrup, thanks!

And the weather. And weather eye open.

I've noticed I get pulled into tendencies and patterns which I notice as they are changing without an ability or care to stop them though I think "hey. this may be a new one."
They always seem eternally *me* while they're happening, but I think it's a mix of the pesticides and the exercise and the job market - the impact of all the external on all people external to me and how all this, in turn, effects me and my patterns.

I had fun last night. Even though I passedoutfellasleep and woke up carsick with the CD over and my lately favorite song overunsungalongwith.



Mmm. Think I realized one reason why feeling so pleasant this morning. Dream where the tailor turned into a bakery owner in Amsterdam. They were out of the pies and the chinese food and the gyro kits, so she said: I will give you a pass, pick out $50 worth of merchandise. I proceeded to the back where the vintage shoes fit me and were cheap and plentiful - and circus peanuts also abounded! No bottle or box of wine was under $90 dollars, however.

I used to write a love poem

every time I had fun with someone. Then
she'd stop talking to me. If she knew or not she
might have. I used to write a love poem every time
you broke things. Had teeth. Rested.




Would you eat the food/if grown there?
Would you taste the food/if groan?
Would you sweet the wood---what toning.
And the sweat of the red of the rhubarb
the plan.



What was that lightening last night - was that heat lightning?
The half-moon about to be shut off by clouds.



What to do about a constant---pain if itching---white?
Don't catch me on your camera.




i wasn't talking to anyone! but they
and a vest and a beaded dress and
a lapdog
space it off apart from the fire it's too hot
no hot no it's cold, blanket round










i never thought i'd see you again
i knew it was coming if

the hug there


you were the way you is
the condoms in
the creature








it made me think about semen some
more gravity there
who is coming? who has already
shown? proper dressing?

we figured it out together i don't remember
what we talked about only
listening to you - convince him - that first
night that night with my hair short i wanted
no matter












and firewood
and good dry
firewood
and sparks and the woods
are burning the wood
is burning the sparks
are all on your foot

I may be mistaken

but I believe some of these are on the path of our road trip

The making of mountains

je t'adore je t'adore je t'adore
turn yourself
off eat a biscuit

when you speak
in a presumptuous way
how can I take it so
menage a trois and beaten
to blood and pulp

beaten till rock hard
beaten to peaks

from a file labeled "random shit"

Mystic Pines

for C-----

That these places become parts

of us and tremble without us

is halfway correct. You

became a part of many

poems. You will not miss

me. It’s only people missing, so

we say and so we number.

Don’t mistake this with

remember. We miss, we

reminisce, we can’t take

pictures with our eyes or

stabilize our thoughts. They change

their shape and tone with a new

emotion, the absence of a first.

fun facts:

A few aspirin tablets should be powdered finely and made in the form of paste with water, then they are applied over the face, neck, upper back/chest (wherever required) as mask. They can be kept for 10-15 minutes and be washed with warm water.


For face wash, a few aspirin tablets can be powdered coarsely and mixed with required amount of water (like a scrub) to wash the face.

Again the adverse effects should be watched carefully.

Almost everything else can be carried.

Writing is a disembodied act.
We need:
Two cans of coconut milk - 1 lite or light; 1 regular

To make a vegan cookie dough

And/or:
Almonds/Chocolate Chunks/Ricemallow Cream



Happy Birthday to Jessica, Happy California
to most of the rest of us. All I am is caffeinated. All I am is unsure
of what's next. What do you suggest I get,
some sort of certificate? A real job? A life?

I know what it's like to have thoughts in boxes and send them on and look back later.
My clothes I should fold into boxes. My pans. My ladle.

I might, I don't know, Cry at work

or something. It's been done. It's been done.
How many ways can I tell you I love you and mean it? Why isn't everything
being enough?
I look at the hour-by-hour forecast and mean it.
I rearrange my Facebook friends in Chat. Create categories.
Categorize, if you will.
And still there's a teeming a swelling a something like what in the hell did I get myself into?
In life. In life. In doing what I am and studying what I did and being this version of me.

I can't tell you to mean things anymore and I have no incentive to get rid of the "I,"
am startled by honking. It's violent.
Please. Knock on the door. Or call hir.
We all have cell phones these days, or don't we?

There's always this desire in me to get on here, record some urge, post it where it can be seen but isn't up for a direct response. What is it, what is behind it? There's no necessity. What is emotion? There are so many things I don't understand because I get, maybe, part of the picture.
I get what is felt, what is feeling?












It's just
it is difficult to know what any person wants from you at any one time.
I am terrified of disappointing all of you.

It is okay

to say too much. I was too tired/drunk the other night. Tired is hard to get rid of unless there is time. I always wake up then finally rested and embarrassed of what I'd been too tired to hold back, what I've thought of those I'd been too tired to handle at the time. Maybe I don't want to dye my hair. I can't decide. I just know I can't throw anything away because I'll end up wearing it. Must simply continually add and combine and never wear the same thing twice in the same way. That's okay too. There is too much repetition already in my food consumption.
La.
I got my schedule completely wrong and now instead of working 5 hours at 8.50 an hour, I'm working an extra 4 hours at 6 an hour.

and I think I also dreamt about running. Bugs.
Murdering, as a man, this woman kissing me with peanut butter lips.
They tasted that way. Maybe she just got sick. And she was jealous of the other woman I also played (if you think of dreams as a play). A jump down each level of bloody corpse and then it flashed back to that hotel night. Some sort of after-prom. I had also been fired in the slightly more realistic portion of the dream. "You do such a great job for us; unfortunately we can't stand to have you around anymore," was the email.

Oh last night was so fun. And it's so beautiful now! (Outside) Bella's in the window chasing bugs and sometimes falling. I'm not sure whether they're in or outside. I didn't know if I wanted to take the class. I want to do nothing when I'm tired.

*Identity Crisis*

It's gonna be okay it's gonna be okay it's gonna be okay it's
gonna be okay (etc etc)

Jessica Valenti, from her book The Purity Myth:

"I’ve always found the idea of “saving” your virginity intriguing: It’s not as if we’re packing our Saran-wrapped hymens away in the freezer, after all, or pasting them in scrapbooks (admittedly, not the best visual — my apologies). But packed-away virginities aside, the interesting — and dangerous — idea at play here is that of “morality.” When young women are taught about morality, there’s not often talk of compassion, kindness, courage, or integrity. There is, however, a lot of talk about hymens (though the preferred words are undoubtedly more refined — think “virginity” and “chastity”): if we have them, when we’ll lose them, and under what circumstances we’ll be rid of them."

I don't want to offend you

I just want us to collaborate, discuss things. It's your baby, why can't you take your baby for a weekend?
I don't know.
Event the news media thinks it's ridiculous (that he's being talked about/to
still) I agree. I agree with the news media. Who gets the spotlight? Stop having babies, keep
your sperm
to
your self.
You're not involved in this. This isn't your baby. Why are we listening to you.
oh god it's good oh
god it's so good

I made this oatmeal that is somewhat rice-pudding like - a sprinkling of raisins and almonds, a splash of french vanilla creamer, a bit of brown sugar, some salt, then cinnamon ginger and allspice.

I'm starting a revolution

on my facebook page. And revolutions are bloody
and clit-filled.

OH god oh god

my head hair hurts!
Oh god oh god.
So far today I've succeeded at: making a lasagna
signing up for phi betta kappa
asking for a raise
calling on a job
and making lemon frosting to dip graham crackers in D:

Oh god oh god.
Someone write this paper for me.

You make me want

to read
what you've written. You make me watch.

I finished Song of Solomon last night, my favorite so far
I need to read The Bluest Eye next.

Laying a new foundation for our economic-ness. Cleaner environment.
Good job, O. We'll see. We'll see things. Some of it might be real.

There was a (what I assume to be) repub' dissin' on the anti-war protesters that gather on the corners of 16th and O st wanting honks.
"What's those peoples' problem?"
"I don't know"
"Some people just wanna settle everything by talking through it...we call them [equivalent of pussy] or democrats."
He was saying O was gonna have to talk to foreign leaders on the phone just like that Big Bad Bush (and other things I tuned out).
Since he'd already insulted my political point of view and seemed like a patriarchal dumbass, I chose to play the woman and say
"I don't much keep up with that sort of stuff, that poly-ticsss"
He made some comment about how schools don't teach kids like they used to. I bet he misses segregation. Then maybe O never would have happened.

This is a fact.

Coffee-drinkers tip better. I've been tipped a dollar by two separate coffee-purchasers today. My first customer today bought two huge latte-mocha drinks and didn't tip at all. Coffee-drinkers tip better.

whoa

http://community.feministing.com/2009/04/feminist-critique-of-hetero-ma.html

I did enjoy this comment on her original blog post:

Perhaps V.A.C. should try anal sex. Rest assured: Your masculinity and sexual orientation (whatever they may be) will remain intact.

Masculinity need not require one to constantly defend it with the use of synecdochic rhetoric (which is often times very demeaning to women and LGBTQ individuals) as a means to prove that one is - in fact - still a man with appropriately manly genitals.

I don't expect everyone to accept this view as point of fact (especially those who feel the overwhelming need to provocatively display their hyper-masculine / macho behaviour through actions which, in and of themselves, are tailored to assert dominance and lord one's sense of superiority over others).

That said, I'm a man, I'm attracted to people of all walks of life (bi/pan-sexual... whichever designation you prefer) and enjoy anal sex (*gasp!*). So, while it's quite possible that I'll catch some flack for these seemingly contradictory attributes (heh), I welcome whatever discussion it may spark, if any.

Feminism is a movement for liberation, the primary goal of which is to create social parity between all people, regardless of race, ethnicity, sex, gender, gender identity, sexual orientation, class or any other number or combination of possible traits. It began with women's rights (the right to suffrage) and has evolved to include the rights of everyone. I emphasize: EVERYONE.

I do hope that has cleared up a few things, especially for MRAs who feel that their rights are being violated. The violation is constantly shared by others who don't have the long-standing societal privilege of being born as (generally) white, straight men.

I think there is something wrong with my heart.

Like, I keep forgetting to breathe and there's a skip and I think Oh yes oh yes breeaaathe.
Or maybe I am breathing, I mean obviously I am or I would be dead, but this skipping heart of mine...
Quit the jump rope already. I am in the library. We are not working out.

Links everybody!

I've got links!
Links!

Some of them are...let me just say..."iiiinteresting..."
and with that inside joke with myself and KP, I bid you adieu.

want

these!

Female Genital Mutilation

It's torture, not culture. A common occurrence not done of free will.


Biking with a backpack on
a heavy backpack on
with the big fur hat and the golden boots

A. Hurts
and B. Is pretty ridiculous-looking.

I'm just lucky my hat didn't fall off
or my head with it.

North Wind.


In Alice Walker's film re: FGM a chicken's head was cut off to symbolize the excision of female
dirty sex organs: Clitoris, Labia Minora, Labia Majora. Sand poured over. One blade for multiple girl-children.
And then sometimes a stitching shut takes place, with enough of a space left for menstrual blood to pass through. Unstitch her for her husband.
If you don't do this you will be no better than a whore, your father will divorce your mother. Every bad daughter is an indication of a bad mother.




The me in here is ridiculous. Me in my Russian Glamour Cowgirl ensemble. I'm mad and I'm lucky.
What is my responsibility to other women and how can I better present these issues?




I couldn't figure out how to hook the air pump to the tire so I left.

I find a lot of people tiresome.

Like, myself, for instance.
Shit. Shiiiit.

Those moments thinking: GOD
I'm boring.

And also, you're boring.
What the fuck are we talking for. What's it. What's it about? And why.

Facebook Facebook Facebook.
Get a job. Get a job. Get a good job.
Health insurance Verbal abuse

This preacher in my hometown he is, I will say, "iiinteresting."

Interesting.

That the best you could come up with? Call someone interesting as an insult?

Call someone gay or retarded?

What does it mean that interesting is an insult?

Dog moans are better than talking to you. I have to drink such the perfect amount and still I look the other way, stare down the far end of the table so I don't have to pretend to care.

I'm not making that effort. The "you" stands in for the dougs and marks of the world. The so many more. The let's decorate the house the right way.

You don't know what you want. You
don't know
what you WANT.

Excerpt from "A Timeline of the Kings and Queens of Humans"

There was a queen Ten years
and crazy and left
to her baths until The King
one day disrupted this She made

Imagined herself a potato in the bath water
but it cooled quickly and there was a child
in the recess There behind her back She Knew
Just to lie there Some sort of death

There was blood up and down the sides
blood trailing down like blood does
into the water and she knew

Small Town Gay Bar

I watched this, last night. It's great.
I made strawberry rhubarb oat bars.
Bloody Tuesday.

There was something else I thought important to tell you...
Love is not a flimsy feeling. Love is not a Harlequin romance.
I think the diminishment of Love and of Love Stories is part of a plan to diminish anything that can save us. Love can do that.
Or ruin us, tragedy. Love can be selfish. Love just is.

Would you rather live and die with the mildest of feelings and only the sense of I-breathe-therefore-I-live?

Sula's been making me think differently about love. And African Love Stories. AND Small Town Gay Bar.
Which bar would you rather be in?

mental notes

"8pm shows thursday and saturday and a 10:30pm friday in which teh entire cast of LCP's rocky horror will be there...

just got the email.

then a 5pm on sunday"

You see, I googled "domesticity"

then "domestic" (I played out
the pronunciation of both and was surprised
at the dome in the first, the dumb in the second.)

Then these; these have made me think of you and you.

Googling.

How serious

is the mispronunciation of my name? Ever
how serious hair bits? The cat
is cackling, smelling with his mouth
open, fanged.

You over
simplify some things, over
complicate the rest.

Maybe what we're trying to love at is false.
Has one of us out-lied the other yet?













What are you trying to tell us about

WHo's dOOoing THat?!

Motherfucksubs.

Yes!

I anonymously comment on my own blog sometimes!

Well, it's official.

I'm leaving both of my jobs. I've found full-time employment somewhere much better than Lincoln and I'm leaving.

Her Hat

resembles a funeral,
would be worn
in a mortuary.

Setting. The lines.
Drag these out. She
stabs, stabbing--

panting.
huuuuh!
uh.
huuuuh!
uh.

She's a bird. And dripping. She's
labeled and dropped. Then
the patting.

Let's bike

here

Would you buy the necklace

because you enjoy the decolletage?



I don't read enough.




Jmillz, you have a right to the dissolution
of any techno parties near and/or in
the area of your sleeping.

Quit biting.

It's my bad habit. What did it replace and
more importantly
what will I replace it with?

I've also been drinking
(alcohol)
and eating less. And work outs.

So workouts instead of an internet
snacking sit-down constant constant

Any ideas for the finger snack replacement?
strikeout.

So I've applied

for "window washer" "child care 'teacher and/or driver'" "receptionist" "at home appointment-maker" and I think that's it so far.
*what*

It's funny

what bothers all the yous
out there

I am annoyed

as well

but for different reasons.
What I am saying is. You are
a man and I am
women
and people together.

We are both getting annoyed
at someones and things and then
drinking.

Or eating a quesadilla.
Or pizza. We are both


Wanting hats. Wearing
slightly uncomfortable shoes.

Stop Apologizing

What is this want
to be invisible This notion
I am invisible

that forces back stepping, brushing
dirt over tracks, run
into the trees

a car's coming!
There are lights above
and underneath and the books

are burning. I don't
know how to tell you
I never see anyone

or always see everyone
and lie

A lot.

"A child is coming,

sired by Brick out of Maggie the cat."

OOoooooh

I want this sooo much
Just
this whole inventory





Your parents were coming, so "will you
go to your room"

but my door wouldn't stay shut and I kept making noises
despite removing my shoes etc. Then

"can you, uhm, come make them breakfast" Confrontation!
"Iiii didn't want you locked up in here, I don't know, they just
said so"

and I made it: An egg beater omelet in little flat rounds
and a pizza slice
-shaped hunk

of brownie with butter, nuked a bit, oozing. Your dad liked it.
Your mom was blond, long haired, and smoking. You said your family
didn't want to deal with me but I talked for awhile
then left

It was my house, my parents's
friend

HUSBAND WANTS TO PUSH WIFE OFF CLIFF

My wife gets to the peak during intercourse and will not go over the edge. She'll beg me to keep going, don't stop, keep going-but even during those times when I can, in fact, keep it going-she never orgasms from intercourse alone. But I swear, she is on the edge of that orgasm. How do I get her over that edge? -Peter

Susie: Of course she doesn't come "from intercourse alone." No woman does. I'd love to strike that phrase from the English language.

Aretha: Put your hand down there! Or one of those vibrators that slip on your finger like a ring!

Susie: It's as if she licked your balls and the bottom of your shaft for hours…you'd be screaming for relief, too. You probably need some serious attention to the head of your cock, just like virtually every other man in the universe. You know, the answer is a lot closer than you think. How does your wife masturbate? How does she make herself come? Does she use something dildo-like inside her? How does she get over the top? She knows. Ask her sometime when you're nowhere near the sexual tension bubble.

That last one was

"meant as a compliment" and
"self-correction." I keep wanting to write

clock, and

milk.

Attach words to these words to make
phrases to make you forget. Have you
forgotten yet? I could make you a phrase

your self. I could milk or even clock
you.


This is all beside the point:

I left my Jesus pin in your laundry room
I think.

Dumb bitches

that my boyfriend wanted to do. Or wants?
There are multiple?

We are
so lucky

this isn't mine, but

mine is fashioned perfectly. everyone should purchase!


pink squirrels are indeed pink, though lacking a listed pink-giver ingredient.
\
this we learned tonight.

Okay.

What would you expect a person to do or think after torturing hir for years?

What

the hell is up with all these plane crashes??

This article.

I wholeheartedly agree that we need more openness about abortion. There's so much focus on the wrong things. The "tip of the iceberg" things. Distractions: "hey look over here! don't look at those facts! what if Obama had been aborted! (with no consideration of what-if-Dick-Cheney-had-been-aborted etc. etc.)" There's a "stop-halfway!" notion to all the thinking.

For instance, could we look at why abortions happen? And I don't mean "by having sex!" That's like saying eating causes obesity.

>>Well, yes. And, no!


Also, and this really gets to me, the notion that women should be screened or ask themselves about their mental health and emotional preparedness for an abortion. Okay, fine. Good. But what about the alternative of raising a child? I'd think mental health would be better to consider there, if it's to be brought into the picture at all.

I think this article's good to bring abortion up, but the main issue is that abortion is a just another decision in lives composed of decisions and this often gets lost in the gendered nature of the issue as well as the hyper-politicization.

A few weeks ago

I started looking at calories more closely, and realized things don't really have that many calories.
Now I'm thinking
wow
things kind of have a lot of calories.

Walnuts. Tortillas.
Specifically, this salad.



****Iwishyouwereheretoeattherestofmysalad. D:

OH FUCK OH FUCK Oh Fuck

There. That's done.


Oh, also: "America doesn't trust you anymore"
and neither do I (sticks tongue out) eeeuh!


My god get RID of this

Woke up

with no shirt on, clutching a breast.

This is interesting.

"My Teeth Are Falling"

Dreams that your teeth are falling out are the most common dreams we here at Dream Moods receive. Common dream scenarios include having your teeth crumble in your hands, fall out one by one with just a light tap, grow crooked or rot. Such dreams are not only horrifying and shocking, but often leaves the dreamer with a lasting image of the dream. So what does it mean?

One theory is that dreams about your teeth reflect your anxiety about your appearance and how others perceive you.

Another rationalization for these falling teeth dreams may be rooted in your fear of being embarrassed or making a fool of yourself in some specific situation.

These dreams are an over-exaggeration of your worries and anxiety.

Teeth are used to bite, tear, chew and gnaw. In this regard, teeth represent power. And the loss of teeth in your dream may be from a sense of powerlessness.

Are you lacking power in some current situation? Perhaps you are having difficulties expressing yourself or getting your point across. You feel frustrated when your voice is not being heard.

You may be experiencing feelings of inferiority and a lack of self-confidence in some situation or relationship in your life. This dream is an indication that you need to be more assertive and believe in the value of your own opinion.

Another Meaning for the Teeth falling out dream

There are two distinct periods in an individuals life when their teeth fall out naturally. The first of these stages occurs in early childhood when the milk teeth are replaced by the adult teeth. The second of these stages happens towards the end of the individuals life. If you dream of teeth falling out, the circumstances and the occupancies can greatly help determine the correct interpretation.

The teeth falling out dream could imply the taking on of more responsibility at this stage of your life (ie. loosing your baby or milk teeth and growing up). It could also indicate a fear of waning or loosing powers or status because of age or the aging process.

Oh and

I'm sewing.

Always looking

to the internet for answers
am I



I heard you throwing up last night
and covered my head with the blanket


we did things with bird nest, some campus, dungeon
auditorium;









what-is-this-taste-in-my-mouth

Happy Valentines Day,

baby

I got $10 off for my birthday!

Thanks Hot Topic~!

Mwah ah ah ah ah~!

You don't understand what you haven't done

or Maybe.


I just want to get on a train and go
end up where I was thirty minutes
ago. There could be a life
or a lesson in this. In dreams.



a continually Mutating reality.
There was some happiness, there.
I know. I know. I know it's nothing.
I should talk about. Nothing
I should talk about. There's only
so much you can play can speak
without the fracturing, snipping.



Blemished. Blintzes. Taxes. Milk SUIT. Zoot zooot
I needed. I needed.

New post

made a snowball and threw it at a tree walking home

Right now I feel better today.

I'm not thinking about the government as if I can control it.
I'm thinking I am a cog with a colored pencil winding me around
moving circular to make a picture. Or dinner. Or cash.

I'm sorry.

I take it all back.
I am not going to be in a good mood until ever.


Is it possible to just sign a check over to the university?
Because it's pointless for me to deposit it just to make out a check to UNL for the same amount and more.

It's what we're always trying to sell

The news. The news
doesn't know. I've seen
the movie. I
know. Sawdust swilling
around. And the room.

They already existed.
They were
destroyed. And now
"it's just so difficult"
"it will ruin us"
"you do not understand"

"this isn't what the American people need right now"

and what do you know
of need, necessity.
Wasting wasted waste.

You are going to be O-K.

We are all going to be okay.

oh GOD yes

a picture!

It is so hard.

Not to bite.

Calls at work.

me: Lincoln Espresso; this is Rachael.

caller: mumble mumble (in a voice resembling that of my boss)

me: What?

caller: You have the prettiest pussy, Rachael.

me: Oh yeah?

caller: Yeah, I wanna rub your pussy.

me: Oh, well I want to cut your cock off. :) *Click.*


*ring ring!*

I don't answer.

I am super hungover.

Also, I want these.

Also, I want to make this.

Ha, and then make this.

And, also, this.

nevermind

I don't have money. I'll just keep sitting here.

whino

I don't want to leave because that entails getting dressed and my clothes are uncomfortable it's cold my room is cold. What the fuck am I supposed to do about _________. Fucking. A. Motherfucker.

Fuck. Fuck. Facefuck.

I spent the morning manicuring my nails and trying repeatedly to connect to the internet. Then Katie was awake and told me things weren't hooked up right but that Nick would be home in 10 minutes. I found rice cakes. I drank some juice and watched Oxygen. And now I can go underwear shopping (?) because I've checked my email (?)

Gotta stop

biting. I did my screening today. And I couldn't pee correctly.
This has been an ongoing issue for me, in my life. It's just...
I thought fasting meant I couldn't drink water as well
so I didn't drink water.
Had to drink 5 glasses and finally
SUCCESS! or, as the lab tech said, "Yaaay!"
I know I know. I know. Did anyone know it was going to snow? I love cinnamon raisin english muffins (!) ! (!) ! (!)


Uuh. Planning the trek to class/workout-shower-change/class/home-again is so effing complicated. Sort of wish I had a parking permit for somewhere. Anywhere.

President Bush holds final official news conference

Oh, George...
Oh, George...
Oh, George... *sigh*
You're such a prick. And you called helicopter pilots
helicopter drivers.
Oh, George...

Farewell.

And you think to say

"maybe I am unhappy because I've been sitting in front of this screen for two hours."
"And maybe because of the wrist."
Or the knee. The stop-motion. Stop mothering
me. Stop you all. I love you. So -



Why -

Do you know everything about me?





I am thinking to buy this finger/nail/cuticle cream. It has a "slight bitter taste" and is supposed to heal you. Evidently, one must replace habits with habits. What replacement? Evidently, the gloves were a good idea. I lost them. I'll buy some on e-bay. I need a never-dwindling amount of money. Now.
Go.
Not. God.

Pig tails

are not something I want to give up. Also,
writing poetry is not like being in a trance. Also,
Laurus. That is all.

If you could

take out your tongue,
just detach it and hold
on, what
would that disintegration
of bonds indicate

What if your teeth
followed suit