7.25.2011
hot pink dress
road beer
to
a metal show
in
the heat.
hours in bed
with
the AC,
a brave new world,
knitting needles,
and
netflix.
rainbow cookies for
breakfast
and
dinner.
spontaneous trip
out east
with
sharon jones
iron chic
fleet foxes.
hampton bays
disco band
on
a restaurant porch
drinking
dirty martini and pina colada
with
the sun on our backs.
wrong turns
to
ferry piers
with
compromised hands
and
smiling faces.
$10,000 paintings
and
german shepherds
with
birthday cars
in
Sag Harbor.
everything is 10 years ago.
with the windows down.
road beer
to
a metal show
in
the heat.
hours in bed
with
the AC,
a brave new world,
knitting needles,
and
netflix.
rainbow cookies for
breakfast
and
dinner.
spontaneous trip
out east
with
sharon jones
iron chic
fleet foxes.
hampton bays
disco band
on
a restaurant porch
drinking
dirty martini and pina colada
with
the sun on our backs.
wrong turns
to
ferry piers
with
compromised hands
and
smiling faces.
$10,000 paintings
and
german shepherds
with
birthday cars
in
Sag Harbor.
everything is 10 years ago.
with the windows down.
7.22.2011
7.20.2011
spots on shoulders
play bocce in the hamptons
and
eat pasta dinners
in the
mid summer heat.
hundreds of dollars
worth
in
car repairs
and
veterinary bills
so
dylan can cross the border.
poopie diapers
and
sidewalk chalk
and
the East Coast Billabong bus.
Raven gives me a hat
and
signs a poster for my nephew.
A Bronx Tale
finally arrives
in the mail.
and
i pray
that
i get
a
new job
tomorrow.
play bocce in the hamptons
and
eat pasta dinners
in the
mid summer heat.
hundreds of dollars
worth
in
car repairs
and
veterinary bills
so
dylan can cross the border.
poopie diapers
and
sidewalk chalk
and
the East Coast Billabong bus.
Raven gives me a hat
and
signs a poster for my nephew.
A Bronx Tale
finally arrives
in the mail.
and
i pray
that
i get
a
new job
tomorrow.
7.14.2011
7.13.2011
Chris is moving to LA.
and
asparagus weighs heavy in my gut.
you can only explain so much
to others
who do not see through your eyes
and
whose hearts do not beat
next to yours.
belly shirts.
smelly shoes.
corner bars. closed.
97 degrees
and
a fever
make you sweat through your sheets
and
wake up in the evening hours.
garlic knots
through a park
with the junkies
and the skaters
and
the love.
and
asparagus weighs heavy in my gut.
you can only explain so much
to others
who do not see through your eyes
and
whose hearts do not beat
next to yours.
belly shirts.
smelly shoes.
corner bars. closed.
97 degrees
and
a fever
make you sweat through your sheets
and
wake up in the evening hours.
garlic knots
through a park
with the junkies
and the skaters
and
the love.
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