I have a day off of work, and aside from this pile of laundry, I am perfectly content to sit here and blog while listening to Chris Thile sing me some Heart in a Cage.
I have also discovered Hana Pestle, who sings beautifully and I do not mind putting her on repeat.
This blog is not interesting at all.. I am going to have to brainstorm to make this thing even remotely readable.
I'll do it later. I'm being distracted by Chris Thile, myspace, and the need to shave my legs.
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Party in the oven, chips for free.
whatever makes sense
Above me no seraphims or nymphs,
but crew-cut men, walkie-talkies, crisp
uniforms, the tallest saying,
"Sir, you'll have to leave."
This room with its mahogany clock,
azure lights, dozens of new chairs
set in perfect lines, the grain
smooth as vowels. Among tables a few students
scribble notes, others thumb pages
and everywhere the smell
of fresh wax. Down four flights
we march, one in front and one
behind, past portraits of dour
Southern fathers, stations splashed
with lilies and nudes, past
magazines, blunt newspapers,
thy willowy librarian
hovering with pictures above children, banished
from this kingdom of books,
dear lover, i too
have wasted my life.
but crew-cut men, walkie-talkies, crisp
uniforms, the tallest saying,
"Sir, you'll have to leave."
This room with its mahogany clock,
azure lights, dozens of new chairs
set in perfect lines, the grain
smooth as vowels. Among tables a few students
scribble notes, others thumb pages
and everywhere the smell
of fresh wax. Down four flights
we march, one in front and one
behind, past portraits of dour
Southern fathers, stations splashed
with lilies and nudes, past
magazines, blunt newspapers,
thy willowy librarian
hovering with pictures above children, banished
from this kingdom of books,
dear lover, i too
have wasted my life.
We've met before
Homosapien..nism.
I Think I Need a Page Element for Original Ravings
You talk about dissapointment
the insinuating perfume of the last woman
to leave you. Or the day your life
Seemed to hang by a thread
anyone could snap. But no one did.
It isn't easy to feel convinced
that every part of the world can be used
against you. That loneliness
Real loneliness , won't ever desert you
That it changes into a kind of comfort.
You tell your friend you live surrounded
By the logic of terrible mistakes.
And listening to yourself think
Is another way of losing hold.
But it's not. Trust me. That's what I know
Living where I've always lived, inside
this body you'd tremble to imagine
which is why you want to imagine me
and tremble. To feel certain
You and I share almost nothing.