Sunday, October 07, 2007


with wings like these...
it's real hard to keep myself from getting so close to the sun.

one of us must know (sooner or later) : bob dylan
battle : colbie caillat
carry you around : ani difranco
just for now (live) : imogen heap
omaha : counting crows
honey honey : feist
stacked crooked : the new pornographers
pray for us : the melanesian brotherhood

buying watermelon in the morning. sauteed carrots, tomatoes, and mushrooms {three things i never used to like}. doing the dishes to louis armstrong. talking to my father about beer. the hamilton girls. cloves on the front porch, and laughing too loud. sassy black russian bartenders. sassy vodka katherines. MJ on the violin. turquoise sheets. finding old photographs of dance parties in vacant apartments. new skin, pink skin, growing a thick skin. seeing your ghost on the sidewalk. trying not to hope at the hint of green. caramel apple empanadas. running for literacy. antifall reunion plans, grocery shopping, and the view from our bathroom window.

the UW-stout is naming their library after my grandfather.

did you hear? | are you scared? | huh, these feathers | i fly like a bird.

Tuesday, October 02, 2007

someone who knows better

scabs on my knees and blood
in the trees but the world has been struck
by a greater disease
no worse than the lovers
{the gravity of light}
but at least we'll lie in the aisles

i will never be the woman in white who brings an umbrella every time it looks like rain. (this would be too logical. and i like being caught in a thunderstorm. the tea tastes all the better that way.)
my tennis shoes will never be clean. i run through the mud on purpose.
the 5 way intersection outside my window is lonely at night, except for the blinking red of the stoplights.
that window will be open, even in winter. i get hot when i sleep.
sometimes i write metaphors that will not make sense to anyone else on purpose; this is a subconscious ploy to find my soulmate. it has not worked, but there is time yet. i do not give up.
the best way to make a baby stop crying is to tell her a story as if she were a grown lady. about things like martinis, and heartbreak, and willow trees which fall down in wind storms. she still wants to know about things like that, even if she can't do anything but cry.
three places which will always have my heart: the pacific, the mississippi, the lake.
be gentle in october.

I'm coping, okay? I'm coping! So uhh... shut up, and look at all my crap!