Find the soft sounds we left behind amid the seashells and rubbish to rummage in your room. Shouldn't we have cut out images of snowflakes and whales? Some shared plan would have saved us any amount of grief. When the lights come up we're climbing out of the cotton and crying ( Read more... )

My full name (which is way too long) is Anna Irene Margaret Vinsonhaler Weldon. I've always wanted to lop something off that and I feel that Irene is a good candidate. It begs further lopping, though ( Read more... )

Yesterday I explained the summer I spent on my knees with a rosary in the hot dust in the attic of a house that was being torn down, and again I am struck by how forgetfully I reduce to magic all of my hours and days. I do not pay these visions much heed but I never truly misplace them. If you do not know this, you should know that I have twelve ( Read more... )

At my job I often finish a transaction with "Enjoy!" and always flash to Zizek's view of the injunction to enjoy and how prohibitive it is of actual enjoyment. This is a good example of one of the many secret ways I am a monster ( Read more... )

When the shit hit the fan when I was a kid I always knew I had a fairy godmother who was magic and did magic tricks and had sparkly face paint and was a wild woman and even if she couldn't fix whatever happened she could come to our house and put up a tent in the front yard and give me piggyback rides everywhere I wanted and didn't want to go. ( Read more... )

It must be admitted that most of my secrets are physical, that I am uncomfortable with religion and make others also uncomfortable with my collection of Jesus's, that I have very little interest in doing anything useful with my life (that has only recently become true), and that I have increasing doubts that summer is ever going to arrive. Also: ( Read more... )

( testing )

It's snowing here and I wake up sleepy and unreasonably resentful. There's a compact pit in my stomach that I used to confuse with too much bottle but now that I don't drink I see it is from wakefulness in the smalls of the night. Last night I magically pulled a mean poker game out of a hat and then quit it out. Some things I am having a hard ( Read more... )

I want to correct people less, even if their compliments are grubby. Oh, I am such a jerk. How our fires of driftwood burned a green copper flame! These nights I've been dreaming of nothing at all, nothing pertinent, none of the cast of characters are implicated, least of all me. Why such a blessing ( Read more... )

Good goddamn, I need more blue collar scholars in my life.
I give red-wing blackbirds 47 thumbs up.