| THE TEMPLE OF WISDOM, THE ROMAN COLISEUM, THE GOOD KING, TIME TRAVEL, TWO ANGELS |
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[30 Apr 2009|12:11am] |
The heart of the word splits open
In the night air, ink and smoke
Out of the gothic wells of sleep.
Sea-voices, blue voices,
White bells rolling down the hills,
Hyacinth and lilac,
To the smokestacks.
Wood-voices, mist-voices,
Oracles of the thrush—
Emerald gorges, cities of breath,
Waterfalls of silk—
Invisible birds dive through dreams
Into the solitude of your breast,
Where ghost-suns flicker
Under leaves of crystal,
Buried in caverns of tears,
Your eyes in the dark silver light,
Hours of rain turning in secret letters
To your face,
The darkest song of the season,
Gospel of stones
Speaking the language of dead leaves
And empty streets,
The winds come home to your heart.
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[08 Mar 2007|11:27am] |
if i could remember the rise and fall
of the summer sky
i would imagine it constantly and keep it in my pocket
i would keep it in my hat
i would keep it anywhere
and then i would show you what i meant
when i said you are like a boundless wind
only i couldn't keep you anywhere that small
so i just hope i can keep you safely
somewhere else
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| safe |
[02 Feb 2007|04:01pm] |
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it is the afternoon, great. my morning has lasted for 3 days. i left work only a few hours in because really i have no more ambition. instead i stand in the health aisle and stare at the sex books until it is lunch or until a customer asks me if i know anything about al gore's book and i say no and they acknowledge my awkward resistance and they walk away.
i have pretty much given up excuses for leaving shifts, all i have to say is WHOOPS I HAVE TO GO. no one questions me because i look like the type to cry. they think i lead a secret life of no good. i am invisible.
i have no cigarettes or money because i keep leaving work to go home and smoke, watch movies and order food. i am living very comfortably. last night i found a record player on the side of the road in perfect condition except it has NAZIS spray painted across it, is that okay?
slayer is blasting from downstairs. i am going to ask the neighbours for a cigarette.
that is my day, this is my life.
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[31 Jan 2007|03:52pm] |
what time have you got, for the moon little lady
i'd love to watch you live
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| true story |
[23 Jan 2007|06:45pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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out |
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music |
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iodine in my coffee - billy childish |
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dirty dirty bad feelin
waste face
gutter race
never stopping to lay our heads down
and breathe between the green winds
i’m so sorry
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| there'll be days |
[19 Jan 2007|07:15pm] |
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mood |
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mmhmmm |
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music |
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hummmmmmmmmmmmm |
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this morning my boss resigned from his position so we had a loser work party in the staff room where we all ate pieces from a man-sized cookie. i ate the burnt edges of it and didn't sign the goodbye card. everyone clapped. i looked out the window and asked about drinks.
i hope people think i am a nice girl. life is ridiculous.
i am going to start selling things on ebay for vacation money. if you will pay me 5 dollars you can have anything from my house, here is a list: a half full perfume bottle, some glittery pencils and a note, a necklace and a ring, a book i resent, a surprise bag, a mixed cd, everything in the left side of my drawer which probably includes batteries a knife and a moroccan scarf.
how is your day? what is your resolution for february? everything smells like barbeque, my neighbours downstairs are master genius chefs, all the woman does down there is make elaborate dinners for her husband and then he beats her and she cries. the snow is grey outside. i guess this is why people miss the summer, they miss feeling like they can be alive again, they miss remembering when they were so alive.
no one misses winter, when all of the days become like that feeling you get right after christmas when you are terrified that you are never going to be happy again.
tonight i am going to a record release party somewhere? i am having guests over, i like it.
for the last hour i have been intensely concentrating on making food and cds, cleaning the floors and doing week-old dishes so that when everyone sleeps over they will think "what a nice house she has" and "her floors are so clean she must be so fulfilled". i will smoke quietly and go to bed early.
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| don't ever look behind you |
[04 Jan 2007|01:01pm] |
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mood |
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dog |
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music |
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tyrannosaurus rex – dwarfish trumpet blues |
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hi. i just got back from the store. it is right across town from my dad’s house. sometimes when i am lonely i walk to a store and stand in its aisles and look at its weird food from the seventies that are now bound in spider webs, hanging on shelves and from the walls sadly, like a dead grandparent, except no one ever bothered to get rid of the corpse, they just hung things around it.
i am at my dad’s house which reminds me of dead everything.
( the black bus )
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| longstocked and loaded |
[22 Dec 2006|08:43pm] |
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mood |
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swamp |
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music |
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orange juice - l.o.v.e |
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WHO MOVED THE BLACK CASTLE
WHO MOVED THE WHITE QUEEN
WHEN GIMMEL AND DALETH
WERE STANDING BETWEEN?
OUT OF THE EVENING GROWING
A VEIL
PINING FOR THE PINE WOODS
THAT ACHED FOR THE SAIL
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| had me a real good time |
[16 Dec 2006|05:21pm] |
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music |
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bonzo dog doo dah band - give booze a chance |
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there are about three things in life i can think of right now that make me feel this happy
the rest of them are dead
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| kick dirt in the playground |
[15 Dec 2006|01:40am] |
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music |
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torn & frayed |
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my mom wired me 650 dollars yesterday for no reason. i dyed my roots black again because no thanks blonde i will probably never see you again. it's just that sometimes i think of you, blonde, as being a part of me and i know you well but i am no longer a part of you and i kind of want to sleep with other people.
i brought my ipod and a stack of books to read and sat in the laundromat. it was dark with wood deep in crimson brown like the blood of trees, and deep in secrets. the place was empty and i sang loud next to a gang of spiders who come out late, dressed up in silver capes with quiet thoughts on webs and the web of life.
i helped an ancient squinty-eyed man with thick italian skin take his laundry out of the dryer and folded it for him with precision. i told him that he had a nice head. he smiled like "okaaaay" and held his hat in his hands with painful dedication.
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| your ideas are trying to talk |
[08 Dec 2006|08:08pm] |
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music |
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sinner man - nina simone |
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today a woman told me her baby died and asked me to recommend a book to cope, i stared at her face and had to walk away to cry in the bathroom over her tragedy, really i just can’t handle dead babies on a friday, raining, close to christmas. sometimes i think that people must be so satisfied with their ugly pants and bad hair and boring social instincts.
my roommate made me a falafel and we got drunk at two in the afternoon and right now i am watching two movies on two televisions at once and combining the morals into a cherry pie that is cooling on the kitchen countertop.
i made a giant poster with faint pencil and then traced it with glue and sprinkled silver along the lines.
my afternoon has been soaking in fluid thoughts of laughing and smoking, and i'm cradling every second like it is a warm bath holding endless water for me to drown in.
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| the garden |
[07 Dec 2006|07:12pm] |
tired eyes never felt so good.
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| blue trees |
[23 Nov 2006|11:24am] |
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music |
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pink mountaintops - new drug queens |
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AND HERE AND THERE IS THE FEAR OF NOT GROWING
NOT BEING SURE ENOUGH TO BE VISIBLE
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| uh huh |
[09 Nov 2006|09:35pm] |
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music |
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look on up at the bottom - redd kross |
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| your scare isn't scaring |
[30 Oct 2006|08:40pm] |
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mood |
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morning after night after |
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music |
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supremes - love child |
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last night was the halloween party. it was terrible for the first half hour. after we couldn't get into the drake hotel we took a cab 1/4 of the way to the stones place and then stopped in the middle of the street to walk the rest of the way there, since it was so beautiful.
vultures crowded the sky. every month is the same.
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| the black book |
[10 Oct 2006|09:15pm] |
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mood |
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yeah |
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music |
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grace slick & the great society - daydream nightmare |
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i got a new job again i am like a job getting master.
i quit my other job like i do most things in life when they are good. now i work at a bookstore called indigo FOREVER. that means i stand around book shelves all day anticipating winter and dressing like a child librarian from the mountains who wants to grow up to be the colour grey.
joan collins was making an in-store appearance today to sign books and talk about sex, boozing and men. like a whiter and sluttier oprah.
i watched her while i ate lunch and her hands touched all over her book with long, manicured nails and long, brittle fingers. her face looks like a taut lion skeleton.
leonard cohen came in last month and i totally missed him, i like how my job now is just waiting for celebrities to come in and tell me gossip.
also they made me join this reading competition group.
they are totally trying to be my friend no matter how much i resist,
“no i don’t really like friends thanks though.”
there's this amazing weirdo from new york (ben jewish lisp likes being miserable and awesome) and a very little girl from tokyo (tara indian-japanese tiny head moves like a sleepy cat) and a beautifully tragic lady from paris (anne only speaks in reference to les miserables). we all get to pick a book and review it and then we switch books. like we are in this BATTLE OF THE CONTINENTS OF THE WORLD and i am totally going to win it for canada.
when i left the store joan collins had just downed her third glass of chardonnay, yelling out to the audience of fifth grade teachers “life is always an invitation!”
only she really said “life is always an imitation!”
for a second i thought she said something profound but then i was like, oh wait, it’s joan collins. and, oh wait, that’s my third glass of chardonnay whoops.
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| lord bless this mess |
[07 Oct 2006|10:50pm] |
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music |
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byrds - you ain't going nowhere |
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it is thanksgiving tomorrow.
i made a list would you like to see it, it’s a list of things i am thankful for:
the cosby show
my perfect taste in decoration
us magazines
blind seeing eye dogs
sweet chili heat doritos
i like my new job it's at a supermarket where all of the women in condos come to buy their expensive groceries. i watch them move devastatingly slow throughout the night and pick up food, taking small bites and then hiding the remains all over different corners of the store, like they are playing a game of rich cat and mouse and i am a rodent.
my boss writes notes on the doors in the staff room “this too shall pass, onto better days!”
it looks like her life is terrible so i mean i guess she has to believe in her notes or else she’d be so totally dead by now.
i get to sing along with the radio really loudly, here is a list of the artists played at my work: whitney houston, bryan adams, elton john, abba. it is amazing.
at the midnight shift i stand between the aisles and dance down them in my own supermarket prom dreamland. it is lonely and beautiful to own the world at night.
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| do the haunt |
[01 Oct 2006|12:58pm] |
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mood |
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human brains |
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music |
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beach boys - friends/2020 |
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i have figured out the subway system in toronto it took me 1 month and a half. there is one guy who rides the same route as me everyday and he reminds me of a 50-something count chocula. we make small conversations and he asks me about my life, i tell him, he nods excitedly. he says his family was in the black panthers and i have no reason not to believe him. it takes more work not to believe him anyway and i mean, i am all about short-cuts.
i missed my transfer so i walked home alone and it rained all over my head and into my shoes and i couldn't stop swearing at the day to FUCKING SHUT UP with its grey swamp sweater that hung over the sky line and soaked through my bones.
i just got home and i found out i might have a new job at a deli that is a family business run by the mcmullens from 1954, i researched the whole family so when they interview me i can go
"you are brad, brad mcmullen not frank mcmullen, your family has 3 chains your market is fresh and your work, efficient. your cakes look like alice in wonderland miracles, your hands are delicate like a girls, you have a dangerous smile; brad mcmullen"
i hope i get the job so old men with hand tricks, who come in to have somewhere to go, can make me feel better about living.
and i can probably steal lots of sandwiches to make me feel better about money and um morals.
it is october now. last halloween a car drove past my sister and i, emptying a carton of eggs at us and practically broke our hearts. only the splatter made a perfect trace of our silhouettes and didn't touch us even though the whole night i kept running my hands through my hair going "IT'S HALLOWEEN HOW COULD THEY BE SO HEARTLESS!" it ended up being a pretty okay night for only pretending to have fun.
i'm going to walk downtown now to find speakers because we are having a halloween party with peeled grape eyeballs and human spaghetti brains. "peeled eyeballs and human brains"
oh yeah my costume for halloween is winter.
everyone is kind of afraid of it and all like, oh shit, winter already are you serious? and i'm like, i don't really give a fuck i'm ice cold and i have no mercy.
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