January 2011
52 posts
1 tag
moving day!
it smells like spices but i can’t afford food
and i’m tripping over hairs shellacked onto the floor
it feels so good to have four walls for me to fill
“where he keeps them in a vault of devil daughters”
a gracious amount of pink
Just the thought of asking for help
I know how hard this is I know how hard. Once you get over it, though, everything else is so much easier.
to get me over this aversion, someone once asked me, “what is your first reaction to a friend asking you for help?” if you place yourself in the other person’s shoes, if they care about you or about being a good person then they will want more than anything to have the...
“Your letters got sadder. Your lovers betrayed you. Kid, I wrote back, all lovers...”
– Charles Bukowski (Love is a Dog From Hell: Poems, 1974-1977)
1 tag
january
a huge black crow just flew past my window, framed in white
business catsual caturday night. cat ears, strawberry daiquiris, icicles shaped like crowns and guns, mouse cage as a cat TV, kitty DJing
walk through the winter woods, bare trees and berries, tracking rabbit browse with Walker only walking each snow-covered path once. found a pack of cigarettes with a joint in the middle of the path...
