i'm done with the first book of augustini confessionum & i still can't tell if it's nice to read him when you're lonely or not nice at all

went with naomi to see the impressionists at the de young. i love museums at night. while we were arguing with some security guards about wheelchairs a family behind us with a little girl walked in. the girl was about six & reluctant. "no," she said, "no, i don't want to go. no, no, no. NO, mommy, NO. NO! NO! I HATE ART! I HATE ART! I HATE ART! I ( Read more... )

my parents in town. drunkfest. couple days ago we went to the berkeley marina which was hot & cold at the same time. my mother & i lay on a bench, heads next to each other & legs stretched in opposite directions, each listening to the other's ear, talking about savage love ( Read more... )

( i think the word for this kind of translation is loose )

elizabeth just gone so it's like summer solstice, or something. i'm exactly one-beer-on-an-empty stomach drunk: perhaps my favorite, my favorite for its tendency to shine a little light on time. i couldn't imagine facing the mound of latin ahead of me tonight so while waiting for naomi to wake up from her nap i made a bizarre & sparkling salsa ( Read more... )

bought a bunch of epic scallions today that come up to my hip from the ground. they're lying stark, offering-like, on the counter. suggestions welcome. skinny black woman at the farmer's market laughed at me, said you're going to have to start drying scallions at this rate

on that note ( an experiment in interillumination )

five years ago i would've said why doesn't obama just make cars illegal or something it's so fascinating that naomi watches the news on television. here we are, sitting in the living room, she playing solitaire while watching, i with this old machine on my lap, she half stoned & i half drunk. the news is so horrible & so obviously edited for ( Read more... )

instead of studying for my latin test, instead of sleeping, ( i've, uh, translated the first russian poem i ever learned )

god, i feel downright sentimental. i went to my first frat party last night. i can feel myself waxing cryptic & waning subtle; i sense an old urge to say hard things cleanly; i re-, re-, re-remember nausea.

1. & you who were / bewildered by a meaning / whose code was broken, crucifix uncrossed

2. i need a drink & a quick decision / now it's up to

fortunately the best language nerds in this latin class are also the smokers. during breaks we lie on the hot stone, mumbling quickly & senselessly to each other. we swap facts about the declensions of languages we've half-studied three, four years ago, we swap cigarettes. it's too hot to smoke but it's also too hot to learn latin. not a language ( Read more... )