i've sat here quietly weeping into my wine glass
thinking that you think i wish i had one over you
but i haven't.
any power i had was given freely in a moment i cannot finger-point
but it had something to do with
a story you told me, unwilling.
when i made that wish long ago,
long before i even knew you,
or myself
i wasn't even sure what i was aching for.
through incidents and coincidence i feel
we pry one another from our shells
white underbellies exposed
and we don't even care
if the other devours us whole.
2008/06/28
2008/06/12
one day your life will be turned inside out by a knot
someone else loosened. it won't be your fault and it won't be a punishment
or consequence of some action you took
or failed to take. it'll just happen.
you'll be tempted to blame yourself - that's human.
oh ego! keep your feet on the ground. you'll be tempted to beat yourself up, oh!
it's about you!
and me too.
that was the swipe of a feather, the misbeat of a drum, the pebble you tripped on
the crowd that swallowed you whole
the tears your mother shed the day that you were born
the longing, the sweat, the easy frightened laughter let loose at a funeral;
the out of tune piano, the lost child, the tiny blue-black ant
you failed to notice on the edge of your coke can
and the subsequent sour-tasting bite on your lip.
it's a language you don't understand (but love)
and meringue on a pie, and clacking of high heels across a schoolroom floor.
it's your hand clenching in excitement and your mother's perfume
floating down hallways long after she's left.
it's not anything you can control, is what i'm saying.
you need to just feel your body hit the ground and pay yourself some mind,
you just need to put on your dancing shoes once in a while, yeah?
just to stamp around your living room and you need to
fall alone into bed with your heart open to everything it can feel
and answer my text messages
at midnight.
that undone knot means you're free and unbound by
what held you tight before.
i know it's scary, but i'll be waiting way down here
floating, all a-lonely, in the black water, waiting.
so jump.
someone else loosened. it won't be your fault and it won't be a punishment
or consequence of some action you took
or failed to take. it'll just happen.
you'll be tempted to blame yourself - that's human.
oh ego! keep your feet on the ground. you'll be tempted to beat yourself up, oh!
it's about you!
and me too.
that was the swipe of a feather, the misbeat of a drum, the pebble you tripped on
the crowd that swallowed you whole
the tears your mother shed the day that you were born
the longing, the sweat, the easy frightened laughter let loose at a funeral;
the out of tune piano, the lost child, the tiny blue-black ant
you failed to notice on the edge of your coke can
and the subsequent sour-tasting bite on your lip.
it's a language you don't understand (but love)
and meringue on a pie, and clacking of high heels across a schoolroom floor.
it's your hand clenching in excitement and your mother's perfume
floating down hallways long after she's left.
it's not anything you can control, is what i'm saying.
you need to just feel your body hit the ground and pay yourself some mind,
you just need to put on your dancing shoes once in a while, yeah?
just to stamp around your living room and you need to
fall alone into bed with your heart open to everything it can feel
and answer my text messages
at midnight.
that undone knot means you're free and unbound by
what held you tight before.
i know it's scary, but i'll be waiting way down here
floating, all a-lonely, in the black water, waiting.
so jump.
2008/05/21
i was out in the woods with my family. we found a carved horn and i blew on it for laughs. it made this horrible deep blatting noise and suddenly the whole earth shook and the sky grew dark. it seemed i woke some sort of terrible process from deep within the earth and the end of the world was imminent. there was nothing we could do to stop it. the first sign that this was really happening was when a distant mountain began to smoke ominously like a volcano. misha said, "it's frickin mordor!"
we went back to this hotel place we were staying at and walked into the restaurant where all the guests had gathered to stare out the windows at the gathering dark and the smoking mountain. a woman was sipping on a drink and suddenly she started choking. i ran over to her and pried her mouth open to find a creature trying to crawl it's way down her throat. i grabbed it by its reptilian tale and pulled it free, though it was hard to keep a grip on because her saliva had made it's scales so slippery. her throat was bulging and her eyes were watering and she was making a terrible noise. i finally got it out and slammed it hard against the table and knocked it unconscious. it was a tiny dragon, complete with little fairy wings.
a man behind me put his hand on my shoulder and said, "hey there, good job." i turned and it was bill murray. i said, "wow, hey, thanks. i didn't know you were staying here." "yeah, i come up a couple weeks a year. i'm impressed with how you have single handedly saved one woman's life while simultaneously bringing on the end of the world. what are you doing later?"
"er, not much, just going back to my room, probably. to wait to die."
"what room number is that? i'm here by myself and i'd rather not be alone for this, if you can imagine that."
"well, what room number are you?"
"why, you wanna come up?" i nodded. "great, come on." he took me by the hand and led me to the bank of elevators.
once we got to his room he fired up his laptop and had some music going. he had to have been on like the 20th floor because the view out his windows of the smoking mountain was amazing. we were looking out over a lake that had turned black from the reflection of the dark sky and woods and hills. it didn't occur to me how strange it was to be in a skyscraper style hotel in the middle of the woods. we started chatting and he was making laugh. "got anything to drink?" he asked me. "i've got some southern comfort in my room that i could go get," i said, laughing. southern comfort is such a teenager drink and i felt totally stupid telling him that. he laughed and pulled out his own giant bottle of it. "no need for that, missy!" he pulled out tumblers from the bathroom and poured us a couple of huge glasses. "to the end of the world!" i toasted, and we drank. i started to instantly feel drunk.
"hey, what's one thing you always wished you would do before you died?" he asked me.
i thought for a minute and then said, "get a tattoo."
"oh yeah? what stopped you?"
"the one i wanted was pretty detailed and would have cost a lot of money and i could never justify it," i replied.
"did you know i learned how to tattoo really basic stuff, when i was on SNL?"
"no! really?"
"hell yes. and i even have my equipment here. you want?"
"YEAH I WANT BILL MURRAY TO GIVE ME A TATTOO ON MY LAST DAY ON EARTH!"
he pulled out this hardshell suitcase from under the bed and popped it open. inside were inkpots and needles and odd liquids and cords and things. he started making space on the nightstand for all his equipment and i couldn't stop laughing, between gulps of southern comfort, that is.
"oh hey, but you know what? i mean we're gonna get pretty drunk and you're gonna be pretty sore after i'm finished here, so...if we wanted to, like, fool around..." he said, looking at me with that funny puppy dog look, "you know, end of the world and all, one last hurrah and what have you...we should probably do it now."
i thought about it for a sec and then said, "huh. ok. makes sense." i laid back on the bed and he climbed on top of me and started kissing me. but i kept laughing because it was so ridiculous, and his foot kept knocking the nightstand where all his tattoo ink was, and he was laughing, and the sky outside was getting darker, and then suddenly there was a pounding on the door.
"shit, we gotta hide all this stuff!" he said, jumping off me. he started to scramble to try and put away all the tattooing gear. "i'm not licensed to operate in this province! they're gonna bust me! help!" i was still laughing but started to help him. the person on the other side of the door pounded again just as we got everything tucked under the bed. i stood up and looked out the peephole. my mom was on the other side, looking afraid and teary eyed, so i unlocked the door and let her in.
"what are you doing in here when the world's about to end?"
"me and BILL MURRAY were having a drink and talking is all," i said, feeling guilty.
"don't you want to be with ME? with your FAMILY?"
"well, sure...but i didn't think it was going to happen instantaneously. bill was gonna give me a tattoo and then i was gonna come right back down to our room."
her face softened a bit. "oh. ok. what are you drinking? what tattoo were you going to get?"
bill poured her a stiff one from the giant southern comfort bottle and handed it to her. "southern comfort, madam. and we hadn't decided on the tattoo yet, had we, christa?"
"i think i just want the word 'vegan' on my wrist," i said. the both nodded in approval but my mom pulled out a sketchbook and some pencil crayons from somewhere and drew a really amazing, elaborate peacock in a japanese style water garden. "what about something like this, though?" she said.
"wow, mom, you're drawing skills have really improved!"
"i know, right?"
"that looks good, but it would probably take too long. we'd be dead before the peacock was finished."
bill pulled his works out from under the bed again and said, "let's go with the word vegan to start with. then you can take off your shirt and i'll start on the peacock between your breasts."
my mom was drunk by now and looked at me with a fluttery eyelash face and fell over laughing. the mountain in the distance rumbled loudly and i squeezed the blankets on the bed with my one good hand, and woke up.
we went back to this hotel place we were staying at and walked into the restaurant where all the guests had gathered to stare out the windows at the gathering dark and the smoking mountain. a woman was sipping on a drink and suddenly she started choking. i ran over to her and pried her mouth open to find a creature trying to crawl it's way down her throat. i grabbed it by its reptilian tale and pulled it free, though it was hard to keep a grip on because her saliva had made it's scales so slippery. her throat was bulging and her eyes were watering and she was making a terrible noise. i finally got it out and slammed it hard against the table and knocked it unconscious. it was a tiny dragon, complete with little fairy wings.
a man behind me put his hand on my shoulder and said, "hey there, good job." i turned and it was bill murray. i said, "wow, hey, thanks. i didn't know you were staying here." "yeah, i come up a couple weeks a year. i'm impressed with how you have single handedly saved one woman's life while simultaneously bringing on the end of the world. what are you doing later?"
"er, not much, just going back to my room, probably. to wait to die."
"what room number is that? i'm here by myself and i'd rather not be alone for this, if you can imagine that."
"well, what room number are you?"
"why, you wanna come up?" i nodded. "great, come on." he took me by the hand and led me to the bank of elevators.
once we got to his room he fired up his laptop and had some music going. he had to have been on like the 20th floor because the view out his windows of the smoking mountain was amazing. we were looking out over a lake that had turned black from the reflection of the dark sky and woods and hills. it didn't occur to me how strange it was to be in a skyscraper style hotel in the middle of the woods. we started chatting and he was making laugh. "got anything to drink?" he asked me. "i've got some southern comfort in my room that i could go get," i said, laughing. southern comfort is such a teenager drink and i felt totally stupid telling him that. he laughed and pulled out his own giant bottle of it. "no need for that, missy!" he pulled out tumblers from the bathroom and poured us a couple of huge glasses. "to the end of the world!" i toasted, and we drank. i started to instantly feel drunk.
"hey, what's one thing you always wished you would do before you died?" he asked me.
i thought for a minute and then said, "get a tattoo."
"oh yeah? what stopped you?"
"the one i wanted was pretty detailed and would have cost a lot of money and i could never justify it," i replied.
"did you know i learned how to tattoo really basic stuff, when i was on SNL?"
"no! really?"
"hell yes. and i even have my equipment here. you want?"
"YEAH I WANT BILL MURRAY TO GIVE ME A TATTOO ON MY LAST DAY ON EARTH!"
he pulled out this hardshell suitcase from under the bed and popped it open. inside were inkpots and needles and odd liquids and cords and things. he started making space on the nightstand for all his equipment and i couldn't stop laughing, between gulps of southern comfort, that is.
"oh hey, but you know what? i mean we're gonna get pretty drunk and you're gonna be pretty sore after i'm finished here, so...if we wanted to, like, fool around..." he said, looking at me with that funny puppy dog look, "you know, end of the world and all, one last hurrah and what have you...we should probably do it now."
i thought about it for a sec and then said, "huh. ok. makes sense." i laid back on the bed and he climbed on top of me and started kissing me. but i kept laughing because it was so ridiculous, and his foot kept knocking the nightstand where all his tattoo ink was, and he was laughing, and the sky outside was getting darker, and then suddenly there was a pounding on the door.
"shit, we gotta hide all this stuff!" he said, jumping off me. he started to scramble to try and put away all the tattooing gear. "i'm not licensed to operate in this province! they're gonna bust me! help!" i was still laughing but started to help him. the person on the other side of the door pounded again just as we got everything tucked under the bed. i stood up and looked out the peephole. my mom was on the other side, looking afraid and teary eyed, so i unlocked the door and let her in.
"what are you doing in here when the world's about to end?"
"me and BILL MURRAY were having a drink and talking is all," i said, feeling guilty.
"don't you want to be with ME? with your FAMILY?"
"well, sure...but i didn't think it was going to happen instantaneously. bill was gonna give me a tattoo and then i was gonna come right back down to our room."
her face softened a bit. "oh. ok. what are you drinking? what tattoo were you going to get?"
bill poured her a stiff one from the giant southern comfort bottle and handed it to her. "southern comfort, madam. and we hadn't decided on the tattoo yet, had we, christa?"
"i think i just want the word 'vegan' on my wrist," i said. the both nodded in approval but my mom pulled out a sketchbook and some pencil crayons from somewhere and drew a really amazing, elaborate peacock in a japanese style water garden. "what about something like this, though?" she said.
"wow, mom, you're drawing skills have really improved!"
"i know, right?"
"that looks good, but it would probably take too long. we'd be dead before the peacock was finished."
bill pulled his works out from under the bed again and said, "let's go with the word vegan to start with. then you can take off your shirt and i'll start on the peacock between your breasts."
my mom was drunk by now and looked at me with a fluttery eyelash face and fell over laughing. the mountain in the distance rumbled loudly and i squeezed the blankets on the bed with my one good hand, and woke up.
2008/05/16
it was probably three summers ago the last time we laid together on the beach
and it was quiet or abandoned
our blankets were ruffled and slithering sand made it's way through the creases
i was laying with my cool white feet on your bare chest,
reading my book while the breeze took issue with whatever page i chose.
i got to an exciting part and dug my toes into the flesh of your torso unconsciously and
that woke you from your nap
so you stretched a little and patted my calf softly.
i rested the book open on my body and peered at you from behind my sunglasses, half-smiling
as you sat up to take stock of our surroundings.
a thick swatch of scotch broom behind us rattled off scratchy songs in a wind-driven brogue
from the other side of that thicket a university student squealed over a frisbee toss.
you stood, wiping thin patches of sand off the back of your swim shorts
and raised your arms over your head in a little yoga nouveau.
i closed my eyes with the weight of my hardcover
comforting my belly for i don't know how long in all that quiet.
when i opened them again you were wading into the tawny ocean and shade was creeping over our oasis
the frisbee game had degenerated into peals of laughter and an awkward game of tag
the girl in her white bikini being caught by young men in board shorts and
the whole heap falling in grass breathless
i watched with amusement and felt glad of the fact that
i'd already made my impression by that age.
you were swimming far out into the inlet by then
and i watched your golden head bob slowly away
what perspective i had to wonder at
when i took into account the north shore mountains beyond
and the oil barge you may have stowed away on.
and it was quiet or abandoned
our blankets were ruffled and slithering sand made it's way through the creases
i was laying with my cool white feet on your bare chest,
reading my book while the breeze took issue with whatever page i chose.
i got to an exciting part and dug my toes into the flesh of your torso unconsciously and
that woke you from your nap
so you stretched a little and patted my calf softly.
i rested the book open on my body and peered at you from behind my sunglasses, half-smiling
as you sat up to take stock of our surroundings.
a thick swatch of scotch broom behind us rattled off scratchy songs in a wind-driven brogue
from the other side of that thicket a university student squealed over a frisbee toss.
you stood, wiping thin patches of sand off the back of your swim shorts
and raised your arms over your head in a little yoga nouveau.
i closed my eyes with the weight of my hardcover
comforting my belly for i don't know how long in all that quiet.
when i opened them again you were wading into the tawny ocean and shade was creeping over our oasis
the frisbee game had degenerated into peals of laughter and an awkward game of tag
the girl in her white bikini being caught by young men in board shorts and
the whole heap falling in grass breathless
i watched with amusement and felt glad of the fact that
i'd already made my impression by that age.
you were swimming far out into the inlet by then
and i watched your golden head bob slowly away
what perspective i had to wonder at
when i took into account the north shore mountains beyond
and the oil barge you may have stowed away on.
2008/05/04
i was walking down a street window shopping with a couple of friends when i noticed this gorgeous, tall, dark-haired and dark-eyed man crossing the road towards us. i thought in my head, "wow, he's amazingly intense looking!" but then quickly forgot about it as my friends were pointing at some cool things in a boutique window. we then turned and kept walking but i felt like i was being watched. i turned my head and glanced over my shoulder and sure enough, the sexy man was following us. he was intently staring back at me, and i got the distinct feeling he was admiring my ass! i was wearing jeans and felt suddenly self-concious about it but what could i do?
then, my friends disappeared and the pavement turned into a raised pathway made of wooden planks and all the storefronts looked like they were from the bygone days of the frontier - all brown wood and old fashioned gold lettering. i realized i somehow walked into a revival society's theme park or else gone back in time, because when i looked down i was wearing a lovely long 1800's style dress, with a corset and bustle and a full skirt and a lace shawl. i was still window shopping, though, and i when i paused to look in at a millinery's display, i saw not only my own reflection, but that of the incredibly gorgeous man, standing directly behind me. the look in his eyes, in the glass, caused me to feel at once aroused and afraid. he moved up close behind me and slid his hands around my corseted waist and drew me tightly up against his body. in the window reflection i watched in fascination as his head leaned down towards my neck and then i closed my eyes as i felt his lips raise shivers of pleasure from my flesh. we didn't speak or even really seem to breathe.
i felt i was in a daze. he stopped kissing me but kept his hands on my body, guiding me across the dirt road to a saloon or tavern. he pushed us through the door, threw coin money at the bartender and led me straight up the stairs. still we did not speak, i didn't even know his name, only that he was absolutely the most desirable man i'd ever laid eyes on.
the room was rustic, sparsely furnished. he shut and locked the door behind us by turning a skeleton key. he walked directly to the bed and pulled the covers completely aside, and then grabbed my hand and pulled me to him as he sat at the edge of the thin mattress. it didn't take him long to undo the corset and then all the buttons of my pretty pink blouse underneath. freed from my trappings he pushed me down onto the bed next to him, not smiling, not talking. i couldn't recall ever being so turned on in my life. i couldn't have wanted anything more than i wanted to make love to this stranger in the wild, wild west. he began pulling at the pearly buttons on the front of my skirt and i was all fumbly fingers at his vest and shirt. the room was mostly silent and warm, sunlight streaming in through filmy windows, wood beams of the floor and the bed creaking slightly. his hair was tousled, he could not stop staring into my eyes, i felt the shirt fall open and my fingertips sang against his bare chest. once my skirt was laid open he began to yank at his own belt buckle and i was so eager, so eager to see what he was about to unleash...
AND THEN I WOKE UP.
WHAT A RIP OFF, MAN.
then, my friends disappeared and the pavement turned into a raised pathway made of wooden planks and all the storefronts looked like they were from the bygone days of the frontier - all brown wood and old fashioned gold lettering. i realized i somehow walked into a revival society's theme park or else gone back in time, because when i looked down i was wearing a lovely long 1800's style dress, with a corset and bustle and a full skirt and a lace shawl. i was still window shopping, though, and i when i paused to look in at a millinery's display, i saw not only my own reflection, but that of the incredibly gorgeous man, standing directly behind me. the look in his eyes, in the glass, caused me to feel at once aroused and afraid. he moved up close behind me and slid his hands around my corseted waist and drew me tightly up against his body. in the window reflection i watched in fascination as his head leaned down towards my neck and then i closed my eyes as i felt his lips raise shivers of pleasure from my flesh. we didn't speak or even really seem to breathe.
i felt i was in a daze. he stopped kissing me but kept his hands on my body, guiding me across the dirt road to a saloon or tavern. he pushed us through the door, threw coin money at the bartender and led me straight up the stairs. still we did not speak, i didn't even know his name, only that he was absolutely the most desirable man i'd ever laid eyes on.
the room was rustic, sparsely furnished. he shut and locked the door behind us by turning a skeleton key. he walked directly to the bed and pulled the covers completely aside, and then grabbed my hand and pulled me to him as he sat at the edge of the thin mattress. it didn't take him long to undo the corset and then all the buttons of my pretty pink blouse underneath. freed from my trappings he pushed me down onto the bed next to him, not smiling, not talking. i couldn't recall ever being so turned on in my life. i couldn't have wanted anything more than i wanted to make love to this stranger in the wild, wild west. he began pulling at the pearly buttons on the front of my skirt and i was all fumbly fingers at his vest and shirt. the room was mostly silent and warm, sunlight streaming in through filmy windows, wood beams of the floor and the bed creaking slightly. his hair was tousled, he could not stop staring into my eyes, i felt the shirt fall open and my fingertips sang against his bare chest. once my skirt was laid open he began to yank at his own belt buckle and i was so eager, so eager to see what he was about to unleash...
AND THEN I WOKE UP.
WHAT A RIP OFF, MAN.
2008/03/12
folding t-shirts
there is this tiny place way down in my solar plexus
where things like wistful singing, jagged sunsets, the birth of babies,
sincere laughter and evil wrongdoings live.
it fills and empties like a tight little bladder
waiting for and triggered by signs of the apocolypse
all seven signs:
a heaving sigh, restless fingertips, dark eyes,
thinking about you, abandoning pretention, forgetting laws,
typical city traffic,
that kind of thing.
i am trying in my way to both nuture and quell every vitreous humour
that attempts to fill that little physiological sac
as it inflates, i'm drastic
a poetess, impulsive and frightening, flooding the world with feeling and
crying herself to sleep, begging for heart agony, for jealous retribution,
for living severe hollywood romance.
as it deflates, i'm sensible
filled with terror and superstition, pragmatically neverminding the signals
and investing nothing but money, effort, and time,
doing the right thing by puritanical standards.
either way
i'll win, i figure.
where things like wistful singing, jagged sunsets, the birth of babies,
sincere laughter and evil wrongdoings live.
it fills and empties like a tight little bladder
waiting for and triggered by signs of the apocolypse
all seven signs:
a heaving sigh, restless fingertips, dark eyes,
thinking about you, abandoning pretention, forgetting laws,
typical city traffic,
that kind of thing.
i am trying in my way to both nuture and quell every vitreous humour
that attempts to fill that little physiological sac
as it inflates, i'm drastic
a poetess, impulsive and frightening, flooding the world with feeling and
crying herself to sleep, begging for heart agony, for jealous retribution,
for living severe hollywood romance.
as it deflates, i'm sensible
filled with terror and superstition, pragmatically neverminding the signals
and investing nothing but money, effort, and time,
doing the right thing by puritanical standards.
either way
i'll win, i figure.
2008/02/23
i had a dream last night that a crush of mine met me in this old log cabin somewhere out in the woods. i was staying there by myself and he drove up on his own to surprise me. it was coming on night and i was in the bedroom making the bed with those old flannel sleeping bags everyone had in the 70s - you know the ones, stuffed with feathers and heavy and the inside fabric had sepia cowboy scenes on it? i know you know. anyway, he walked in and i was all surprised and tickled by his appearance. he pulled out this gorgeous underbust corset and asked permission to lace me up into it. i said yes. it was incredibly erotic, feeling the boning and jacquard fabric close in tighter and tighter around my rib cage and back and under my breasts; the sound the laces made as he yanked them through their grommets.
2008/02/04
dearest,
i woke up with the words, "stop shouting," mummering from my lips and my hand patting the part of the bed where you'd been only moments before - at least as i dreamed it. as i dreamed streamers of sparrows drifting past the bedroom windows, as i dreamed flickering dawnlight through ragged earthtone wings, shadows over our faces slack with lovemaking, through your voice calling for me down a long hallway, or over the high frequency flightbeats against glass.
it was weird, and i should have known it was a dream, because while your face was above me, lost in our passion, i could hear you were yelling for me from some distant dreamplace of your own. a place i know pretty well as i've been there too. i've hung around in the coppery dusk and watched portals throb open and swell closed and the parades of memories and fantasies striding by; alternately ignoring me and pursuing me as packs of wild dogs down alley ways. they aren't vicious, just hungry, but they frighten me anyway.
you know your voice carries subsonically. it sounded like that whooshing noise you get when you open the door on an airplane midflight. like they do sometimes in the movies. sucking the wind out of my lungs, dragging my hair violently over my face, pulling on me so hard i needed to hang on to rough upholstery to avoid been yanked into the void. it sounded like you were saying my name backwards but you weren't. maybe you'd recorded it backwards, and practiced saying it that way over and over again until you got the beat right, until you got the counterintuitive breathing right, until you knew my secret self both ways. all ways. always.
anyway, this note is just to say, i didn't like waking up with your dream-shouting for me echoing in my ears only to find you were not beside me where my dream promised you would be. so why don't you just tell me what you were trying to say, right now, in the light of consciousness and day? if it's so important. if you must try so hard.
all my everything,
~c
i woke up with the words, "stop shouting," mummering from my lips and my hand patting the part of the bed where you'd been only moments before - at least as i dreamed it. as i dreamed streamers of sparrows drifting past the bedroom windows, as i dreamed flickering dawnlight through ragged earthtone wings, shadows over our faces slack with lovemaking, through your voice calling for me down a long hallway, or over the high frequency flightbeats against glass.
it was weird, and i should have known it was a dream, because while your face was above me, lost in our passion, i could hear you were yelling for me from some distant dreamplace of your own. a place i know pretty well as i've been there too. i've hung around in the coppery dusk and watched portals throb open and swell closed and the parades of memories and fantasies striding by; alternately ignoring me and pursuing me as packs of wild dogs down alley ways. they aren't vicious, just hungry, but they frighten me anyway.
you know your voice carries subsonically. it sounded like that whooshing noise you get when you open the door on an airplane midflight. like they do sometimes in the movies. sucking the wind out of my lungs, dragging my hair violently over my face, pulling on me so hard i needed to hang on to rough upholstery to avoid been yanked into the void. it sounded like you were saying my name backwards but you weren't. maybe you'd recorded it backwards, and practiced saying it that way over and over again until you got the beat right, until you got the counterintuitive breathing right, until you knew my secret self both ways. all ways. always.
anyway, this note is just to say, i didn't like waking up with your dream-shouting for me echoing in my ears only to find you were not beside me where my dream promised you would be. so why don't you just tell me what you were trying to say, right now, in the light of consciousness and day? if it's so important. if you must try so hard.
all my everything,
~c
2008/01/14
you're the red beans in my rice
you're the foster in my bananas
rainfallout, steamin
made love after we slept in
found a child
home sick from school
and taught him how to make skillet cornbread
you're the balsamic in my vinagrette
you're the hot oil to my beet chip
warmbelly, rumdrink
promise of friends to come
found them
right when they were leavin
and they taught me how to say goodbye
you're the foster in my bananas
rainfallout, steamin
made love after we slept in
found a child
home sick from school
and taught him how to make skillet cornbread
you're the balsamic in my vinagrette
you're the hot oil to my beet chip
warmbelly, rumdrink
promise of friends to come
found them
right when they were leavin
and they taught me how to say goodbye
2007/12/13
i dreamed my uterus began to hemmorhage while misha and i were hiking through this big golden field. it happened so quickly. i went from being mildly embarassed about the gush of blood from between my legs to totally lightheaded and dizzy and fainting in an instant. i fell first to my knees, then laid quietly down on my side and started to silently weep. misha was clutching my hand, both our fists bloody, calling out for help into his cell phone, but i was dying. i closed my eyes. it got dark.
then i dreamed i snuck into my neighbour's basement and found a small airplane that would fit one person. i hauled it outside and up onto the roof and started it up, not really believing i was going to do this. i climbed in with the engine revving. it was present day, it was snowing, i wanted to fly through the night snow and look at xmas lights on people's houses. i got a few blocks and became afraid of how high, and alone, i was. i turned the plane back and was overcome with exhaustion much like i have been in the last week and started to fall asleep at the wheel. i woke up after i had crashed the little plane right outside the neighbour's door. they started to come out, and i had to struggle and stumble up out of the plane quickly so that they wouldn't see me in it, and i wouldn't be held accountable for all the damage i did. i tried to struggle into the house but misha had filled the entire outdoor walkway and front hall with all manner of bright xmas decorations and lights and music and i was tripping on cords and neon santas. i finally stumbled through and into the living room and fell onto the couch to sleep, while i heard the neighbour shout about the plane. i felt ok, though, like i knew i'd gotten away with it.
then i dreamed i snuck into my neighbour's basement and found a small airplane that would fit one person. i hauled it outside and up onto the roof and started it up, not really believing i was going to do this. i climbed in with the engine revving. it was present day, it was snowing, i wanted to fly through the night snow and look at xmas lights on people's houses. i got a few blocks and became afraid of how high, and alone, i was. i turned the plane back and was overcome with exhaustion much like i have been in the last week and started to fall asleep at the wheel. i woke up after i had crashed the little plane right outside the neighbour's door. they started to come out, and i had to struggle and stumble up out of the plane quickly so that they wouldn't see me in it, and i wouldn't be held accountable for all the damage i did. i tried to struggle into the house but misha had filled the entire outdoor walkway and front hall with all manner of bright xmas decorations and lights and music and i was tripping on cords and neon santas. i finally stumbled through and into the living room and fell onto the couch to sleep, while i heard the neighbour shout about the plane. i felt ok, though, like i knew i'd gotten away with it.
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