sketch a doodle doo

i want to fall head over heels

limbs teetering on the edge

self spilling forward yet ever so slightly

and just resisting the plunge

hell even kerplunk

i want to make music

explode into flames of a million hues and melodies

reach the corners of the universe

or even just your heart

sit on a sandwhich

smash it

remember it later and gulp

do you remember when we held each other and rocked and rattled with laughter

together a moving earthquake

together a giglling monster

all was still and silent in the grass and forest

save for our quivering embrace

ding bat in norway

reindeer soup
foggy shorelines
sea birds diving here and there telling you just get away from our nests and stuff
eggs will soon be chicks
got to watch for the birds when mowing for hay
roving threads of sheep herds in the heaths
which i gotta say look more of ireland than norway
spent the day in potato fields and cold sheets of rain

work is hard but never fails to reward the self. there are
all these rivlets of emotion
ebb and flow of
im not going to make it today, im lonely what am i doing here
to crying grateful, explosive infinite calmness
so glad to be fucking alive, what a freak

i am leaving my first farm to go south in a bit
to this little village perched on a vital fjord in norway called hardanger
glaciers peaks snow hats for all the mountains
water oceanous
seems an arresting landscape.

i think a lot about all of you:
we have connected in such intimate and honest ways;
that i am really feeling now as i am so far away,
these reverberations.
im giving good thoughts,
sending good hopes and feelings to all of you

Slide past Toledo and Boston, straight on to Meredith, New Hampshire

funny funny - i see that everyone has demons as everyone gets chewed up by mosquitoes to varying degrees, as everyone gets tickled and cooked by the sunlight to varying degrees (does my skin itch because of bite or because of burn?), so i see when i look them over

we've been intoxicated for days, on a bender incommensurate to our actual needs or so they say, because apparently everything is alright, beautiful, good even. but i wonder what joke is being played on us that we are so delightfully tragic, so erotically bored, needing so much to stretch out our arms and grab. we're out here getting bruised up and crispy, stewing in juices we have injected into our brains.

groups, conflagrations, gatherings. we're in the middle of the burning man of the motorcycle community and i wonder how we all (not just us but anyone joined up for moments unforgettable) manage not to tear each other apart, how we keep things copacetic, how we manage to ignore the simmering ailments below our surfaces. POOR BABY, i say, what ails you? i really want to know. maybe we can make sense of this. we seem to me to be storms brewing within delicate webs of skin and hair. how do we manage? how do we not let the storm pour out of our insides through our nostrils and belly buttons or spit it up in a ball of bile-colored mucus?

but of course in the mornings the lake is cool and you can see straight to the bottom in the shallows. two swallows dip and dive overhead, looking as if they are trying to kiss in mid-air. my skin smells good. i find a fuzzed-over anchor and some empty mussel shells in the water. everything is delicious and the drinks are cold. i look at insects i've never seen before. i feel fantastic and more alert and ready than i have in a while even though i am sleeping far less. we all laugh until our stomachs hurt and we spill things and break things and clean up and take the recycling out and make plans for when we ride further down the coast. we play endless games of cards and we cook in the sun.

i say goodnight. get out of here. you're ridiculous.

first post in months!

a good spanish word that nobody uses is "chispiante" which literally means "sparky". i'm not even sure i'm spelling it right anymore.
does nobody use it because it's not even a real word?
me and my chilean friends used it between 10 and 100 times a couple years ago. so it's not completely fabricated like the stuff they have at the macys in the shopping center in pittsburgh.
by which we presume i mean that it has some emotion to it, love even, a meaning deeper than the dollar or literal communication.
chispiante is a clever-sharp combo with a side of new.
prometheus was the only one to do something chispiante, as above and also literally, at the same time. ha.

what can i say? pittsburgh is seeping into my veins like jungle juice at a frat party. i could be soberer (metaphorically), but i'm not doing much about it, although everybody around me is doing their part by either dropping me a ladder or putting some distance between themselves and this trainwreck. or at least that's how it feels.
if i could only relax.
life is a state of mind. i'll be happy when i'm relaxed when i'll be happy. i'll relax when i can relax. being home? not actually helping. my fault for sure.

today at the park i met a pleasant fellow. a 31yrold asian cmu grad student. loves computer programming and economics. grand ambition - to write programs for faster-than-human trading companies, make millions.
i had to ask: what will you do with all that money? buy a fancy car?
no, he said, i think i'll buy lots of gold and then bury it with me in one of those things.
a sarcophagus?
yeah.

what happened to my optimism?

your ears sound just like ears!!

my uke (Nurse Shark) and I recently celebrated our 1st anniversary, so I thought I'd consecrate the occasion with a cover of one of my all time favorite songs.

let's be youtube friends/co-subscribers! squideos are goodeos.

home? homes?

baoooo,
hello all. so, about my life, location, etc.....
i don't exactly have a home. i mean, i suppose i have a lot of homes, if i'm feeling positive about the whole situation. which i am, mostly.
i'm at one of those homes now. it is a small, white two-story house in Maryland sitting on a corner across from a long driveway ending at a much, much bigger white two-story house (if you can really call it a house...it seems more than just a house) that is also a home. and then, across a pond from the big house, there is a medium-sized white two-story house where i grew up that really is only sort of a home now. so obviously, it's complicated. and i haven't even started on virginia, or michigan, or chicago (baooooo!). i don't have one stable home exactly, but there are lots of places that sometimes feel like home where i can sometimes go and sometimes expect to be welcomed by family or something similar. complicated.
i start with this complicated explanation to give fellow squids some sense of where i am now both geographically and in my head. i don't really know what else to say except that i wish you were all here with me, so that you could experience this beautiful, complicated, humid place i often call home. so that you could smell the honeysuckle in the night air, swim in the dark, run through the grass, drink minty things, wear sundresses (well, again, complicated), and play with small rat- like dogs. i'm having a wonderful time. such a wonderful time that i've lost track of time. i thought yesterday was today, and was looking everywhere for leli, who was probably happily enjoying saturday somewhere in wisconsin. now it is actually sunday, which is pretty exciting, because i get to have another day of sleeping in and eating too much for breakfast. wow. what luck.
anyway, hope you all are well. i'll be in touch. sorry not to share anything more interesting in my first blog post. it's been a long time since i've written much. too much lingerie in my life, too little grammar. i need to go back to school. oh well, important to mix it up. and the UofC never could have taught me how to walk in six inch heels....but anyway....back to the honeysuckles,
lots of love,
A.

a letter to the police

dear fort morgan county police force & jail,

fuck you.
i won't deign to thank you for releasing donte today. fuck you for your long-winded bureaucratic oppression, your institutionalized racial and sexual profiling, and for locking up my friend.
this world might be safer and happier if you quit, closed down, and went home to your families and friends and acted like real, compassionate human beings.
oh, and fuck you to police in general for gathering en masse on my doorstep to "protect" east hyde park from black kids hanging out on the stoops. fuck you. we don't need your "protection" or your fearmongering.

yours, with relief and continuing anger,
eliot

a something, to fill the request

a handful of solitary figures in dark forests in dark woodcuts or daugerrotypes
my husbands-wives bound to me across time
all of us in the same poorly lit room
scribbling
but filling the same empty chamber, unaccompanied, ecstatic
the room bulging with our solitude
we write one word over and over again, it's always in a language everyone has forgot

somebody

post something