12.31.2011
12.27.2011
12.22.2011
12.17.2011
snuggle hard
with
the shotgun
in your bed.
christmas comes 4 days early this year.
wake up
to
morning emails
that invigorate
your soul
and
make you
forget about last night.
there are
robots
fucking
distantly.
and
peacocks
pineapples
tomahawks
giraffe mugs
and
puppy dog carriers.
adrian gave me
mexican
medicine
to rub on
my sore hands.
i'm terrified
of
ski lifts
and
going to
the mountains.
with
the shotgun
in your bed.
christmas comes 4 days early this year.
wake up
to
morning emails
that invigorate
your soul
and
make you
forget about last night.
there are
robots
fucking
distantly.
and
peacocks
pineapples
tomahawks
giraffe mugs
and
puppy dog carriers.
adrian gave me
mexican
medicine
to rub on
my sore hands.
i'm terrified
of
ski lifts
and
going to
the mountains.
12.15.2011
12.08.2011
he will speak
to
the sea of us.
without reaching
the high notes.
apologizing
for breakout musicals
while
the floor shakes
from the collective energy
and
memory.
the bowery ballroom transforms
into brownies.
wetlands.
abc no rio.
and all of the places
you left your soul.
over a decade ago.
alone in a crowd.
one should always
be in love
when seeing
their
favorite band.
i wish you were there.
to
the sea of us.
without reaching
the high notes.
apologizing
for breakout musicals
while
the floor shakes
from the collective energy
and
memory.
the bowery ballroom transforms
into brownies.
wetlands.
abc no rio.
and all of the places
you left your soul.
over a decade ago.
alone in a crowd.
one should always
be in love
when seeing
their
favorite band.
i wish you were there.
12.06.2011
12.05.2011
12.03.2011
have you ever had anything
you wished
you could erase?
i feel like
sylvia.
my head
deep in an oven.
i can't remember anything.
that i was supposed to write here.
we will talk and talk
and
make love
like
it is the last time.
it was the last time, yesterday
and
the day before that.
waking up
with a nicotine patch
attached
to my arm.
keeping
the kitchen cabinets
wide open.
waiting for
our
24th.
our
last
night
in
brooklyn.
you wished
you could erase?
i feel like
sylvia.
my head
deep in an oven.
i can't remember anything.
that i was supposed to write here.
we will talk and talk
and
make love
like
it is the last time.
it was the last time, yesterday
and
the day before that.
waking up
with a nicotine patch
attached
to my arm.
keeping
the kitchen cabinets
wide open.
waiting for
our
24th.
our
last
night
in
brooklyn.
12.02.2011
John Laroche: Point is, what's so wonderful is that every one of these flowers has a specific relationship with the insect that pollinates it. There's a certain orchid look exactly like a certain insect so the insect is drawn to this flower, its double, its soul mate, and wants nothing more than to make love to it. And after the insect flies off, spots another soul-mate flower and makes love to it, thus pollinating it. And neither the flower nor the insect will ever understand the significance of their lovemaking. I mean, how could they know that because of their little dance the world lives? But it does. By simply doing what they're designed to do, something large and magnificent happens. In this sense they show us how to live - how the only barometer you have is your heart. How, when you spot your flower, you can't let anything get in your way.
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