February 2010
74 posts
I want to make these. →
January 2010
80 posts
2 tags
i hate today
probably because i don’t really have anything to do except a film screening that i already skipped, so i’m sitting around in my pajamas, misinterpreting boredom as hunger and dreading reading sir thomas more’s utopia and the writing of a 500-word response to it by midnight. there’s no reason for me to be in a bad mood, really, and i keep thinking maybe i should put on jeans...
“We wrote to become something other than we had been. We wrote striving for what...”
– Peter Manseau, Songs for the Butcher’s Daughter
1 tag
Leftover Pizza
saltandfat:
Reheat or not reheat - that is the question: Whether ‘tis nobler in the kitchen to suffer The chills and arrows of frigid bakings, Or take microwav’s against a sea of crystals And, by heating, end them. To heat, to re-gelatinize— No more -
No more, indeed. So, what to do with leftover pizza and other breads? Once they’ve called the fridge their home long enough to get cold, how do...
spending some time today looking through old...
and what i’m really looking for is a reference to this book of poetry that i checked out from the library last year and loved and want to get again but i can’t remember what the book was…but i’m finding all kinds of other things instead, like drafts of poems i dismissed as awful but actually aren’t that bad, and this:
“So many times with him, I write a whole...
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Yes
Do you sometimes drink alone? Have you ever woken up the next morning after a night of heavy drinking? Does your cat wander through the house meowing inconsolably, despite having fresh food and water? Hunger, thirst, friendship, love. Green Bee, Russian Quaalude, Redheaded Slut: IEDs on the supply route to pleasure. There’s a gala in your hypothalamus, helium balloons rising to the rafters,...
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it’s snowing like crazy and I have nothing to do today besides read lolita and snuggle under blankets, and it really makes me want to pop open a bottle of wine even though it’s noon and I only finished breakfast an hour ago
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Surreptitious Kissing
I want to say that forgiveness keeps on
dividing, that hope gives issue to hope,
and more, but of course I am saying what is
said when in this dark hallway one encounters
you, and paws and assaults you—love
affairs, fast lies—and you say it back and we
blunder deeper, as would any pair of loosed
marionettes, any couple of cadavers cut lately
from the scaffold, in the secluded...
just deactivated my facebook account
i feel older and wiser already
“And so in search of my Holden, I dated one too many guitarists and boys who...”
– diana vilibert: On Girls and Boys (Who) Like Holden
You know, I never had this kind of relationship with Catcher in the Rye, I think I read it when I was too young—I found it engaging, but mostly because of the curse words, I felt rebellious reading it, since it was sort of...
“She wasn’t doing a thing that I could see, except standing there leaning on the...”
– J.D. Salinger (via scout) (via heartbeatcity)
currently reading: a clockwork orange
uh why is “horrorshow” not a part of our everyday language? i mean, what a sweet adjective/adverb. but rather than superviolent/awful, it could mean badass. I AM STARTING THE TREND.
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So.
Yesterday, a friend of mine and I began a semester-long poet-adventure—poetventure, if you will (yeah that’s what I’ve been calling it in my head and I know it’s a little lame but I can’t help it). Based partially on the poetry chapter from this book, with writing exercises from some other books inserted sporadically, and our own ideas from time to time as well,...
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Cartoon Physics, Part 1
poetbabble:
Children under, say, ten, shouldn’t know that the universe is ever-expanding, inexorably pushing into the vacuum, galaxies swallowed by galaxies, whole solar systems collapsing, all of it acted out in silence. At ten we are still learning the rules of cartoon animation, that if a man draws a door on a rock only he can pass through it. Anyone else who tries will crash into the rock....
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weep
weep for the indifference of flying fish
weep for the absence of long-haired blondes
weep for the sadness of yourself
weep for Bach
weep for the extinct animals
weep for grandfather’s clock
weep for weeping because no one cares
the doors open in and out the lights go on and off teeth are pulled
I forgive the indifference of flying fish
I forgive the butterfly and the moth
I forgive the...
me: i guess everyone doesn't always have to do what i wanna do
...even though it's better when we do
tony: haha that may be true!
but sometimes you gotta do things for others
its called compromise
me: yeah yeah yeah
like sharing
but even less fun
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1 tag
a dramedy via txt msg.
meaghano:
me: We both know that if we sleep together I’ll end up liking you, you’ll freak out and never call me, and I’ll be sad. him: Probably.
i think meaghano has hacked into my gchat/aim history because i know i’ve experienced this exact exchange before. just not via text.
“It’s your life. Take it.”
– Charles Wright, from “Sprung Narratives”
“Being always overavid, I demand from those I love a love equal to mine, which,...”
– Sylvia Ashton-Warner (via airwalker) (via mkarmstr)
YES. And it rarely shows up in a palatable, viable form when it does.
(via poetbabble)
I have this theory about poets. In a nutshell, we are not normal. If we were, we would never need poetry in the first place. We always have this giant...
2 tags
if ever you are feeling down
reading charles wright and listening to passion pit = instant mood elevator. just a little something i learned this evening.
3 tags
cocktails in coffee mugs
Last night, I was driving to Katy’s in the rain and I could only half-see and I thought, we’re going to drink until we giggle and I’m SO going to blog about this. I’d had a glass of wine before I left, which is pretty unsafe when you take into account my eye issue that makes things go blurry randomly, especially with glare on wet roads at nighttime and reading street signs...
“I eat a lot so I won’t get drunk and then
I drink a lot so I’ll...”
– Frank O’Hara, from “Two Variations” in Meditations in an Emergency
2 tags
Pyromantic
Blue-tipped kitchen match, Teach me how to strike Anywhere and flare beyond The reach of children, teach me How to burn without burning Up or down or out.
—Stephen Cushman, from Heart Island
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ask/tell me something interesting, if you feel so... →
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Prayer
Every day I want to speak to you. And every day something more important calls for my attention—the drugstore, the beauty products, the luggage
I need to buy for the trip. Even now I can hardly sit here
among the falling piles of paper and clothing, the garbage trucks outside already screeching and banging.
The mystics say you are as close as my own breath. Why do I flee from you?
My...
3 tags
worst week ever
things that have sucked:
i have this mild eye infection that basically just makes the front part of my eye swell intermittently, affecting my vision. so i can’t wear contacts for a week or two, and am wearing glasses whose prescription hasn’t been updated for like four years. and my vision without contacts or glasses is so bad that i can’t see clearly any further than three or...
2 tags
January 1 [1998]
Some people confuse inspiration with lightning not me I know it comes from the lungs and air you breathe it in you breathe it out it circulates it’s the breath of my being the wind across the face of the waters yes but it’s also something that comes at my command like a turkey club sandwich with a cup of split pea soup or like tones from Benny Goodman’s clarinet my...
“‘When you wake up in the morning,’ said Piglet at last,...”
– A. A. Milne (via selfdoubt)
Winnie the Pooh is my soul mate.
2 tags
Tear It Down
We find out the heart only by dismantling what the heart knows. By redefining the morning, we find a morning that comes just after darkness. We can break through marriage into marriage. By insisting on love we spoil it, get beyond affection and wade mouth-deep into love. We must unlearn the constellations to see the stars. But going back toward childhood will not help. The village is not better...
Ugh. When you couldn’t fall asleep til 4, 7am comes early. I mean, it comes early anyway but damn it’s especially unpleasant right now. But after I take my car to the shop, I’m going to the gym and I have faith that Twyla Tharp will make it seem worthwhile somehow. Or something. Yeah.
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!!!
meaghano read my post! it made her cry! in a good way!
and i thought: this is exactly what i was talking about. affecting people. with words. i mean, how cool is that, right?!
“The reason poets are able to read so much is because they spend more time...”
– Naaem Mur, My Poet
(read it, it’s a wonderful essay)
2 tags
Black Ice
If only it lived up to its name, it wouldn’t be quite as terribly hazardous, but sheets and patches of perfect purity can kill by coating so very clearly that surfaces show their purest colors.
—Stephen Cushman, from Heart Island
Coming & Crying: real stories about sex from the... →
I’ve been going through a sort of crisis of faith lately, wondering why I’m even keeping this blog—what point could it possibly have, what good is it serving? Why am I here, sending these letters out to no one, and how is it possible that I’m narcissistic enough to assume that others might actually be interested in my life, in my spur-of-the-moment ramblings?
Because...
After the Movie, Marie Howe →
This poem is in the book I am reading and I love it. It’s my favorite one so far, but I’m only on page 23—and I’ve sort of had the impulse to post like every poem I’ve read in there on here as I’ve been reading it, but I resisted. Marie Howe is one of my faves, foreal.
katy: i spent $750 on eating out last month, WHO DOES THAT
me: haha...me
can i just say:
i HATED lorrie moore’s a gate at the stairs. like, i hated it so much, that when i finished, i was legit angry about the time i’d lost by reading it. i saw good things about it on the internet, and thought i would like it, and wanted to like it but…it was pretty awful. it was like, the main character…told this story at such a level of removal, t prevented you from getting...
