martedì 11 dicembre 2012

Family secrets.

Mom leaving in the middle of the night  age 16 - with car full of her shit. Working her way through nursing school and supporting herself while dating my dad. They married when she graduate nursing school. She was 20. He was 22.

She gave me this little metal pot and it was my only after Spain. Has been for 2 1/2 years. Lightweight and dinted, a tad rusty from the years. It's the first pot she ever bought herself. It cooked her teen belly meals in her own apartment. At age sixteen. In the fucking seventies. 

10 days and counting

Ten days til the end of the world. It oughta hurry up and get to ending. The entire world is a whole lot to deal with if you're talking about shutting down. I'm sure a process like that could technically take years.

And still.
All it could ever be is the end of what we know, modern society, capitalism, consumerism... fuck, it could even be the end of civilization. But none of that qualifies for 'end of world' status. Just as with the dinosaurs, she always bounces back beautifully.
I'm not worried about the world.

And you can try and save yourself.

Me, I'd be content to go down hand in hand with the ones I love. I'd be content with that.

I mean, none of us are getting out of here alive.

martedì 27 novembre 2012

doe on a funeral pyre.

wasn't it lovely? wasn't it a propos?
the doe on the wood pyre, waiting for salvation.
the spent placenta on the ground, the freshly depleted sac and the swarm of insects, thick.
the entrails in the corn field, plowed straight to the bone.
littered with the fragmented remains of a late harvest.
the death of the wild and the innocent.

the death of you and me.

funeral pyre for a wild wild doe.

she died giving birth and her baby is nowhere in sight.

the crimson of the naked corn cob flesh. flecks of gold, its last hurrah. the last hard useless plastic seeds.
nearly all the corn grown in the US is inedible as-is. is this that useless corn?

what the hell kind of place is this anyway?

domenica 25 novembre 2012

desperate single lady.

oh they say he's just a pansy 
just an anti-social flake
what's a girl like me got business with a guy like him?
what's a girl like me think she's gonna get?
you know he's got a dick so he is one, that ain't NEVER gonna change

-ah, you were hoping he'd just fall in love, just be the one. just die in your arms tonite?

-it could happen, sister. i've seen its start. there's such a spark...

-yes, but he's scared. and you've got a nasty habit of being an anti-antidote when men are scared of love.

-me- 'oh, do i? dammit sissy, why you always gotta go straight for the weak? kick 'em when they're down, that's your motto, ain't it now? i bet ya think i'm no motha' fuckin' shakespeare neither, don't cha?

(ah, but it wasn't shakespeare who had a god damned thing on her.
it was only herself who held her back.
true happiness, true peace
lie right inside her small heart.

whole, just as it is today.)

cold sweat.

the cold in me
the sweating constant cold
perpetual cycle
the gleam
the shine
it's brought to light
my salty skin
it's cold and oh that wind just a blows
clippety clap snippety snap

i am in bed under too many damn covers
in too much damn clothes
but in my childhood bedroom
in my parent's house

i'm awake in the middle of the night
trying trying
my skin is just crying
but when i move the cold air on my skin
turns my clipped leg hairs to spines of danger death.

goosebumps and sweat
and its been like this all night

how's a lady to get sleep in this skin?
how am i and just how might you, sir...
what the fuck am i to do with this?

she shakes it in his face
flesh bulging between her fingers, sweat dripping between the boards in the floor.

her face is red
but they shake their heads and carry on
they know it's all a show.

sissy's at it again.


'sex changes everything'

but it turns it into everything else.
god i've been here before but not with you.
in the dark of the park you wander aimlessly away from me at a 45° angle
and i yell after you but i am yelling at jason
'why do you always do that!?'
and to the stars
'ì thought we were hanging out'
and i find a place behind a tree and i want to throw a rock at you
and make your head bleed.

i sit and watch the stars and contemplate getting up and running home
making you worry
and feel bad for being an asshole

but you come back
i hit you a few times
and we walk on in silence.

she walks without looking back until she gets home and realizes she's left him behind intentionally and feels both fueled and hurt by her own gross emotions, her own drama.

the tightness is back and it was first there in her chest
when she and the other man fucked
and stayed together
and killed themselves
and killed eachother.

i am not sad i am not sad i am not sad

martedì 25 settembre 2012

fall 2010. coffee breath smile.

lexington is a big white coffee breath smile
brewing companies by the icehouse
so many other gal's memories in ma head
(you pass through places and places pass through you butcha carry 'em with you...)

fall 2010.

starting on a new page cuz EVERYTHING IS NEW
everything is high and white and blank and open and new
and i can't pretend to be affected can't pretend to be old anymore
i am THIS, i am THIS, and then i am THIS.
now i am THIS.
i was THAT back THEN
but i'm reborn all the time
yes reborn every moment.
i am new.
soy nueva.
sono nuova.
i should be doing nothing other than what i'm doing right now.
i should be doing nothing other than what i'm doing right now.
it is perfect and it's real.
everything is right.
everything is perfect.
and that shit's changin' all the time.
everything is perfect and it's changin' all the time.
i will NOT want (this is a contradiction)
i want to not want.

postcoital. fall 2010.

i am hard and i am so hardcore.
did you know how hard i am? i am?
i am sitting cunt wide open after you've opened me up
but i'm disappointed once again
-nobody can thrill me like he did.
it's like my birthday and christmas all over again
but none of the presents fit me and none of them will again

for elia. fall, 2010.

do you feel me in the waves
in the time change
can you feel me through the time
cross the ocean
your song is repeating
ricocheting against soft clouds
though in my head i am
with you always
i am with you always

to awaken within our dream.

at my parent's house.

dead roses maintain a dusty ghostly photocopy of their youth's color
in the garbage disposal they wait

giovedì 21 giugno 2012

dream of mysterious birthday murders.disappearances on the island of horses.

my sister and i are out on the boat. we went out together for a daytrip on the water, on the lake. the scenery, all is very dark. crowded forests and dark water.

we come back and through the trek on the path i come across a white horse. he is a mirage but frightens me nonetheless. he curves his long white neck down at me from the cliff above and the idea is that he is going to kill me. he sees me. he spies me. i am caught.

little relief comes from the knowledge that he is just a hologram.

we continue up the path and we are bounding up these dirt stairs cut into a tall hill, to our cabin, which we share with dad and elizabeth.

we get there and there are candles lit, but as we near they are blown out one by one. by an invisible force.

we enter the cabin through the front screen door and the room is dark and trails of swirling candle smoke choke the air. they are gone. we know they have been taken.

we are incredibly worried and about to panic. we trek off, stage right, to find help or answers.

the next thing i remember is coming to the house of the shaman who lives over the water. his house juts out over the water. katie and i are about to reach him, carefully hands and knees on the rafters. he is on a loft, surrounded by his shamanic treasures. he is costumed as one would expect a tribal witch doctor to be. he is apologetically stammering and i am demanded answers that i know he has.

i reach out and leap the last 10 ft of space between us and land on his loft. the house is a bit like a barn.

we learn from him that the dark forces from the other, secret hidden side of the island are taking and murdering those whose birthday it is.

we set out again.

at one point i am in a hotel room on the balcony and in come a swarm of them. drew brown is heading them and they're all singing happy birthday. i yell and yell at them, it's NOT my birthday its NOT. he keeps saying it is.

i enter the bedroom and angrily confront him. he explains that if he didnt throw me under the bus, they would've killed him, because it is really HIS birthday. i snap his neck, removing the head, and throw it up into the moving blades of the ceiling fan. how dare you betray me. coward.

the force from the other side of the island is magical however, and i believe that no one can escape them.

flash to me floating in water, and i'm in the sydney opera house - at least the rigging. someone is shooting arrows at us and i'm a little afraid they're going to shoot down the rigging. floating in the ocean. floating in australia.

we move back, the other floater and i, and now we're in an outdoor theatre. i'm in the bleachers in front of two australian men, marveling at their accents. a girl beside me is in a blue tanktop and her tits are small but gorgeous. she has longish dark hair. i marvel at her and pour over her, giving compliments abound. then the men behind me start to flirt, and one of them wraps his arms around me. we begin flirting and making out, there in the outdoor theatre.

then move to me on a stage, another part of the dream. there is a really hot woman who looks a bit like naomi campbell. a man is asking her to take off her clothes. a group of women to her left and behind say ' that little line too! ' for she's wearing a thong. i help her take it off and glide hands over smooth skin. we begin fucking, and i realize she has a dick as well as a pussy, and beautiful breasts -small like mine. i ask her if she minds if i jump on it, and she says something like it will not be the same. but i do anyway, i am all lubed up. she is gorgeous, if underexperienced and a bit self-conscious. i look for a vibrator, the crowd of girls is now around us and helping us out. i'm fucking her and trying to come, even in this crowd of people. i am on top and her dick is deep inside me. i kiss her.

and wake up wanting to be fucked. needing to come.

mercoledì 20 giugno 2012

dream of mafia murders.

we are in the street, people get shot. we are running, trying to hide behind bodies and get out of there as fast as we can. the street is crowded with people, some just watching the shooting, some trying to get away. we hop on our bikes, me and 3 others, josh is in the lead. we're tearing down sidewalks in the ghetto, trying to get out of the ghetto. i yell 'turn left!' directing the group down what i think is a shorter path. josh doesn't hear me, and continues down the street, taking a left one block down. as we pass perpendicular streets i'm looking for him, red jacket flowing behind him as he rides. i'm trying to yell to him so he sees us and doesn't get lost from the group.. we're still in the ghetto. white vinyl-siding shotgun houses rotting on the block.

we get home, and once again it's my apartment, but different. a disoriented dreamapartment. i walk to my bedroom and out onto the balcony, feeling what's about to happen. in the dark i turn to the right, and he is sitting there. the maintenance man who came to work on the studio room earlier. i ask him what he's doing still here. the feeling is that he has a crush on me, had tried to call me while i was away. it's certainly odd that he knew i was there in the house but did not come greet me, just sat in the dark creepily until i discovered him.

back to the bedroom, josh is there now, in the chair where the papasan is in the real dream. i feel relieved now, hopefully by introducing him as my 'boyfriend' i can get this hispanic, dark haired, dark skinned young skinny maintenance man to leave.

i see my bedroom has been rearranged - i can no longer use the fireplace, and i had these gorgeous logs, many of them obviously just decorative because they were polyurethaned or something. many were oversized, but most were in the shapes of mary and the saints. i wanted to put them in the fireplace for decoration, but my bed had been moved in front of it, completely covering it. tacky, so not feng shui.

i maybe comment on my disapproval - why did they rearrange it like this? sigh.

in the studio, i see that hispanic boy has worked alot, but left the whole place kind of a freaking mess. there are colored patches of drywall or something all over the colored wall. i'm trying to decide whether i'm pissed because i have to remove them, or if i'm going to incorporate them, just leave them and love them.

then they come in. the mafia. their job is to kill motherfuckers. regular folks.

they're propositioning josh and the hispanic kid to join their crew. waiving large sums in their face, conceptually. there's a contract. they're pretty fucking scary, and how the hell did they get in my apartment anyway? i've got to figure out how to get that door closed.

the woman, blonde, intensely scary eyes. she looks at me and asks how i'd feel if josh started this? i say well personally i'm not okay with it. if he started doing it, i wouldn't see him anymore. but you know, i've got nothing against it.

obviously i'm afraid of the woman, trying to gloss over my opinion on the matter. josh stands there, contemplating the money he'd make. yeah, i'd kill some people for that kind of money.

next thing i know, they're in my bathroom, the mafia, trying to cut up or drain out or do something to this body. they've killed the man, and now he's in my bathtub, and they're performing some kind of disgusting procedure on it. my door keeps getting taken off and i keep trying to explain to maintenance that i have 3 cats and they could run away if they dont replace the damn door ASAP.

i put my kitties in the studio and all is then pretty much well.

switch to outside the apartment, there are 2 girls and i talking. one is wearing soft knitted wool leggings. we are sitting in a triangle talking. presently i realize they are only talking to eachother, and i feel excluded. then the dark haired girl to my left turns her back completely on me. i complain of the fact, then get up and walk away, making some passive aggressive excuse, avoiding confrontation.

i creep upstairs to the 3rd floor, traveling up the stairs with this big fruit basket. i'm dropping it off at the house of the enemy. girls i believe. ex-friends. i go to drop the basket and see in horror that the door is wide open. some of them must be in the apartment, feet from me, and i'm unprotected, by this open door.  i'm afraid. i drop the basket and run down the stairs. endscene.

venerdì 9 marzo 2012


I miss / think of Italy often but now it's less active - more running in the background.
It smells like cat piss in my room... Elvis my guess.
Condoms were piled in my trash can, and now the cans are empty and missing bags. I am hungry.
I can't get off.
I need to go to grocery for produce and eggs. Empty cat box. Clean up closet. Put sheet on bed. Mail shit back 2 Amazon. Call Adele and say thanks for the weird book. Get my IUD.

Eat something. Break something. Go see a concert.
Go to the gym. Make something. Make something of myself.