I didn't expect to see him there.  Not where I was so confident, so in my element.  A quick stab to the gut and it was over with.  He held the hilt as I walked away, pretending I hadn't noticed him.

a little bit of me gone forever. 

Today I got my first pedicure ever.  It was awesome!  I just want to wiggle my hot pink varnished toenails all day. :-p 

Ah, writing.  Writing: my vitamin.  Writing my lists, writing my secrets, writing my life.  How to live without my pen and paper self?

What is there to say about August? A name unfitting to this sweltering, damp transition month.  August and wise, hardly.  Lately my dreams are just alternate versions of everyday life.  They are made up of real-life ( Read more... )

1.  A People's History of the United States, 1492 - Present by Howard Zinn.  It's a classic for a reason.  I was fortunate to have a very thorough American history teacher in high school, so some gritty parts of our story didn't shock me as much as they might have otherwise.  The history was unique, focusing on class issues, popular uprisings, and ( Read more... )

I just saw an Outback commercial on TV.
It made me laugh for some reason.

Crave on!

Most wars are about greed and conquest, packaged in terms of nationalism and humanitarian intervention.  That last one doesn't work.  For each time we intervened in the name of human rights, there is a counterexample in which we sat idly or abetted corrupt regimes because it worked to our advantage.  How then do we pick and choose ( Read more... )

Sex and makeup.
Make up your fresh linens for
     more sex.
     Your sex
     demands it.

So much depends upon.
Upon depends much.  So.
So much depends upon this cracked coffee cup, its bitter contents.
So much more on that casually tossed lifeline.
I'll call you.
Everything men say to me is casual.  So?
Not ready for levity. 
Not yet, but when?

Why write?
What depends upon it.

Women are so beautiful with their feline sensuality.  Beautiful, these women whose clavicles and hip bones ripple under flesh.  Their hair spiraling down angular backs like waterfalls.  Beautiful women make me a poet, a devotee of fine art.  Feline women with their little claws anchored in my own skin, beautiful women that I can almost feel purring ( Read more... )

My cathedral rests on cracked pavement crowded with rusted chairs by a four-way stop.  I worship with these fellow oddballs, share a cigarette for communion.  What divinity?  Possibility, instant familiarity with these epic pseudo-strangers, coffee and smoke, give us this day our daily.

After all, it is Sunday.