when I was a girl I always wanted a pet penguin. My mom told me that penguins just couldn't live in Michigan in the summer, but I persisted. So one year on christmas I came down the stairs to a beautiful tree decorated with lights ...and right on top of a huge pile of presents...was a frozen chicken in tuxedo. I decided to name him flanagan after my great great great great great great grandfathers pet goat. flanagan and I did everything together. We played in the snow, built forts, ice skated and even built a rink in my backyard. He lived in an igloo that my dad fashioned out of old packaged of frozen spinach. We built it in the corner of the backyard under a dormant rosebush. I remember it like it was yesterday...flanagan and I spent everyday together in the snow for 3 months. Then one day in late march there was a spring thaw. I went out to flanagan's igloo to play, only to find a strange smell...like there was leftover KFC in the trash for a week. Poor flanagan was sitting in a pile of his own juice. His tuxedo was dripping with spoiled chicken skin. I cried for days. My parents held a funeral for him a week later...I couldnt even deliver the eulogy, i was so broken up. As we were digging a hole for him in the compost pile I vowed I would one day go to antactica, because it was a place a frozen chicken could live forever....
the end
Friday, December 9, 2011
Friday, September 16, 2011
The boy in a pastel dream
There was a boy in a pastel dream
he sang songs for serpents and toothpick students
he turned truth into a dirty word
and let the world chew up the insides of TV shows
a Television antidote
How heavy is this wait?
a kilo, a pound, an inch
...of pastel schemes.
he sang songs for serpents and toothpick students
he turned truth into a dirty word
and let the world chew up the insides of TV shows
a Television antidote
How heavy is this wait?
a kilo, a pound, an inch
...of pastel schemes.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
La Vie Noir
I am feeling sad today. Things here are great, but my heart is shrunken. If I were home I would be able to talk to someone about it. If I talk to someone here I just feel like a whinny little brat, but not talking to anyone is making my insides rotten.
France will never be my home....and I feel like I don't really have a home to return to.
What am I going to do with myself? a sad, lonely girl with no country....
France will never be my home....and I feel like I don't really have a home to return to.
What am I going to do with myself? a sad, lonely girl with no country....
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Poem
Delayed gratification
an idea, caged
lust clings to my blood
sweaty legs on a vinyl chair
dim green light reflected
in the truck stop window
Travel always causes longing
highway delays
miles obscure your face
I imagine perfection
but cannot put it in focus
The things I dream for you
pull thread lose from seams
from space and place
I dream you here
I dream me there
Delayed gratification
the wait
counting minutes on a clock
with the second hand broken off
it's metal turning on
jagged little nub
The early morning light rises
night insects swarm the bulb
wanting
drawn in by unknown
irresistible
comforting
Is there space enough for
me, sitting in a parking lot
I buy tickets west, they give me paper cuts
running
to or away? but always running.
every answer in my head
with questioning reasons
when will I see you again?
Monday, August 15, 2011
Love Letter
State of California
GOVERNOR'S OFFICE
SACRAMENTO 95814
RONALD REAGAN
GOVERNOR
My Darling Wife
This note is to warn you of a diabolical plot entered into by some of our so called friends - (ha!) calendar makers and even our own children. These and others would have you believe we've been married 20 years.
20 minutes maybe - but never 20 years. In the first place it is a known fact that a human cannot sustain the high level of happiness I feel for more than a few minutes - and my happiness keeps increasing.
I will confess to one puzzlement but I'm sure it is just some trick perpetrated by our friends - (Ha again!) I can't remember ever being without you and I know I was born more than 20 mins ago.
Oh well - that isn't important. The important thing is I don't want to be without you for the next 20 years, or 40, or however many there are. I've gotten very used to being happy and I love you very much indeed.
Your Husband of 20 something or other.
GOVERNOR'S OFFICE
SACRAMENTO 95814
RONALD REAGAN
GOVERNOR
My Darling Wife
This note is to warn you of a diabolical plot entered into by some of our so called friends - (ha!) calendar makers and even our own children. These and others would have you believe we've been married 20 years.
20 minutes maybe - but never 20 years. In the first place it is a known fact that a human cannot sustain the high level of happiness I feel for more than a few minutes - and my happiness keeps increasing.
I will confess to one puzzlement but I'm sure it is just some trick perpetrated by our friends - (Ha again!) I can't remember ever being without you and I know I was born more than 20 mins ago.
Oh well - that isn't important. The important thing is I don't want to be without you for the next 20 years, or 40, or however many there are. I've gotten very used to being happy and I love you very much indeed.
Your Husband of 20 something or other.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
proud and strange
"I need a way to measure the distance.
I need a way to say why,
out of breath or out of key, her voice resonated in me.
Wish on everything
Pray that she remains proud and strange and so hopelessly hopeful."
I pray I remain proud and strange and so hopelessly hopeful.
I need a way to say why,
out of breath or out of key, her voice resonated in me.
Wish on everything
Pray that she remains proud and strange and so hopelessly hopeful."
I pray I remain proud and strange and so hopelessly hopeful.
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