Thursday, April 29, 2010
Friday, April 23, 2010
Stumbled Upon #1
Ever been to the sistine chapel?
OhMiGod I want my own apartment garden! and now I have a plan
A good treat for sugar-free diet. I'm trying this with peanut butter.
The secret life of everyday objects.
mmmmm2...
i like my body when it is with your
i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric furr, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh....And eyes big love-crumbs,
and possibly i like the thrill
of under me you so quite new--- e. e. cummings
from & (1925)
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Welcome to the Nation of Procrast!
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Hibernation
But instead of getting my wish, I have to please the powers that be by putting on a brave face and acting like I'm not sick as a dog. If I don't get an Oscar for this, I shall be vewy vewy angwy.
That being said, I am extremement excité pour.........
I love Jean-Pierre Jeunet, his films remind me of finger painting
Monday, April 12, 2010
mmmmm....
This is a word we use to plug
holes with. It's the right size for those warm
blanks in speech, for those red heart-
shaped vacancies on the page that look nothing
like real hearts. Add lace
and you can sell
it. We insert it also in the one empty
space on the printed form
that comes with no instructions. There are whole
magazines with not much in them
but the word love, you can
rub it all over your body and you
can cook with it too. How do we know
it isn't what goes on at the cool
debaucheries of slugs under damp
pieces of cardboard? As for the weed-
seedlings nosing their tough snouts up
among the lettuces, they shout it.
Love! Love! sing the soldiers, raising
their glittering knives in salute.
Then there's the two
of us. This word
is far too short for us, it has only
four letters, too sparse
to fill those deep bare
vacuums between the stars
that press on us with their deafness.
It's not love we don't wish
to fall into, but that fear.
this word is not enough but it will
have to do. It's a single
vowel in this metallic
silence, a mouth that says
O again and again in wonder
and pain, a breath, a finger
grip on a cliffside. You can
hold on or let go.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
The Summer Wind...
1. Learn to drive.
11. Read Poetry
13. Run
15. Fall in love