1/10/13

white seagull ankle tattoo. twinzy tattoos with my baby sister and niece.



yesterday elise said 'I want Pop to take me in a helicopter and a jet and a ____ (some airplane I don't know). I want him to take me on both those.'
Katie said well, you'll have to wait a bit because Pop can't fly right now. Not until he's well again. You have to be in tip-top shape before they'll let you fly and Pop's kind of sick right now.'

Elise thinks for a minute.
'Well, I promise I'm going to drink alot of water and eat all the healthy foods, and when I grow up I promise, I PROMISE, Pop, I won't be sick and then I'll take him flying.'


(on peeing in the ocean) - 'are you sure about this, Mommy?'

(points to our seagull burial of the day before) 'Hawah, do you think that's a sandcastle?'
Me - 'No.'
Elise - 'Yeah, cause it's the birdy under there that we buried. And you said, Hawah, that it was going up to healthy but it's still there.'
Me - 'Healthy? You mean heaven?'
She nods.
I explain to her that the bird is not really there anymore even though its body is. It has gone up to heaven, which really means that it is now part of everything. She said so when I die I will be part of everything too? I say yes.


'Mommy, come here and sit down. We need to have a talk. Why are you always yellin' at me?'


'My heart is boken cause we're not at the beach. It's baking, my heart is baking. We have to go back to the beach.'

(on the phone yesterday, she pauses for a bit and I hear some sounds far off ) 'I can't see you Hawah.'

'That's because I'm at my house and you're at your house and they're far apart.'

'I miss you Hawah.'
'I miss you too. But I'll see you soon.'
'Really?'

high in florida.

1/7?/13 . Sunday night in FL w/Katie and Elise.

Katie paying my way to Florida cause it's the only way she could get me to go with her.

The ocean and the sea are so very different - nothing alike.

Underwater with the light on in the hot pool I can see scars decades old - on my shin where I tried to be superwoman with my sister and her friend Corin McCray in the creek and I dropped the huge slab of slate from over me 48 pound 8 year old head onto my shin and just knicked it - pouring blood into the cold bubbling creek as sister and friend splashed away at the wound. an attempt to thwart a trip with a sobbing baby sister back to the house, where mother would be waiting.

the ocean storm breeze rattles palm fronds and they skitter and squeak like a vibraphone or a xylophone.

a black rounded mountain monster slowly rises into the sky, sweeping over blacking out the ribbons of grey silk frozen there in mid-ruffle.

the storm moves ever gently on. i am warm outside and i am nearly nude. and wet.

the sky's enveloped in misty charcoal soup.


not a soul on the beach as i break my gaze from the black horizon and burst into sprint across the shore. the drum beats steady to my right and in my chest, my fists are pumping and i'm going for distance. i'll never tire at this rate. i could sprint right down the coast, around the tip and stop only when my nude toes froze in the tundra of Iceland.

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.

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?

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.