Yay me! Since I can't read and I think I'm thinking like the above, it must mean something. Also, there are two things I want to write about here but can only write about there. You only think I bleggalgaze here. Also, thanks to N from Bethesda for the blankets. I was talking Saturday with Charlie at Freedom Plaza, they could use coffee, big canisters of Folgers not whole bean from Starbucks, paper plates and cups and plastic cutlery, I'll be taking some down this coming Sunday (before picking up Planet at BWI, yay me!), if you want to help, let me know.
- From the rubble of the chancellery.
- What, exactly, are we talking about?
- Fear, American-style.
- Marie Antoniette's neoliberalism.
- The grass is closed.
- Agents provocateur.
- Bellum intestinum.
- Sometimes it takes a 2x4.
- Passing of the post-war era.
- $25 trillion.
- November 17.
- End of loser Liberalism, part two.
- Loser Liberal.
- Occupy poetry.
- Speaking of Alex Ross and sillyass desert island games, Ross asked Bjork for her desert island albums and of course Kate Bush has one on it.
- Kate Bush's new album releases a week from tomorrow.
- More sillyass desert island games.
- Darkblack's Sunday Overnight.
Avoid adjectives of scale.
Dandelion broth instead of duck soup.
Don’t even think you’ve seen a meadow, ever.
The minor adjustments in our equations
still indicate the universe is insane,
when it laughs a silk dress comes out its mouth
but we never put it on. Put it on.
Cry often and while asleep.
If it’s raw, forge it in fire.
That’s not a mountain, that’s crumble.
If it’s fire, swallow.
The heart of a scarecrow isn’t geometrical.
That’s not a diamond, it’s salt.
That’s not the sky but it’s not your fault.
My dragon may be your neurotoxin.
Your electrocardiogram may be my fortune cookie.
Once an angel has made an annunciation,
it’s impossible to tell him he has the wrong address.
Moonlight has its own befuddlements.
The rest of us can wear the wolf mask if we want
or look like reflections wandered off.
Eventually armor, eventually sunk.
You wanted love and expected what?
A parachute? Morphine? A gold sticker star?
The moment you were born—
you have to trust others because you weren’t there.
The strongest gift I was ever given
was made of twigs.
It didn’t matter which way it broke.