who's leaving who this time? (again, a theme for violins)

i swear i swear i swear i'm gonna yuke like all over the place my legs feel like jello you are my friendship rock of womanhood civilization i am so so sad this weekend this week i am so excited for you so excited for you so excited for you so excited that my bitterest rivers flow sweet such that we can kiss and not feel aroused my traitorous body at last feels nothing its bones damp and its nerves damp we did the sentimental thing which was like a funeral for the not-dead the just-leaving promise you will call me i read lorca i thought the repetition makes no sense i am growing tired of repetition it is so so easy so so so so facile and limpid and crystalline and easy easy easy easy there easy now easy now it is so easy to repeat yourself i said lorca lorca lorca why all the repeating the repetition is so so boring as the man and three women step to each other closer and closer whispering on the edge of the woods i am not interested in this anymore except when we are all always having been being on the edge of heartbreak not the woods not the grass not even the clear sky but the thunderstorms and concrete and holding a cellphone up to play music cupping your hands around it to blast it out in a very specific trajectory round/under chain link everywhere sweat underneath shoulder straps everything damp my bones my nerves my notions here here here like a symphony like ravel's terrible bolero that refuses to resolve at the very last moment the moment in which we have been playing charades and it's turned into war i am so so so so so excited for you i am excited for me i am excited for us YOU WERE ALWAYS THE MOST MOROSE DRUNK everyone's mumbling death or talking about their new job are you king of groupon yet are you the king of my heart we could all fuck before we go our separate ways my nerves my nevers my bones all damp the day ends in a cold bath and a headache

after a few months fermenting in the crock...

the last time i wrote here i shared lew welch's chicago poem
yesterday i found some words in my journal from my time in chicago...:

wednesday may 2nd. 6:30am at sheffield and addison waiting for a craigslist ride to madison who never showed...

I have to be hard, hardened to live in this place.
if i care about others, i'll deplete myself.

in this city the poor are spat upon.
 ignored, told they are stupid
and dangerous and sick and wrong
 thrown into jail if they don't get killed in the streets first.

the sound of the el
is the sound of my ribcage cracking
tears of shock and pain leak
from the corners of my eyes
and i weep for the lost everything

for the four of us waiting in a tunnel
deep under the surface of the streets
for a monster to swallow us whole into
its belly
for the operator who spends every night

it is this cleaving
this separation
which makes us unsafe

how do you go out to dinner when so many go hungry?

------------->and Dear you, oh longtime
                 woodlawn englewood garfield park
                      lawndale west humboldt resident---
what do you dream of?
what is your tree of life?

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

fuck europe

for eating all of my money. fucking a.

this is an unimaginative post, it's just me sharing links. then i'll get off the screen and go to the barn.

Saturday evening in Pune someone bombed the German Bakery. Now the count is 9 dead, 60 injured. I wonder if the U of C will do a program there next year.. it's a funny city. I don't know why anyone would target the Pune German Bakery over any of the other ones in the country. Maybe proximity to the Osho Ashram? (AKA the Sex Ashram, it's an expensive place to go and very popular with western tourists. and they hang out at the german bakery a lot. it's a good place to meet creeps and drink kombucha and watermelon juice (mmmm), eat green hummus and really really good coffee-chocolate cake). I guess Headley (one of the main guys involved in planning the 26/11 attacks in Bombay last year) visited the Osho last year, scoped it out. so maybe... well anyway. this happened. feels weird.

completely unrelated to that
I've been listening to the radio because the CD player in my parents car is still broken from when justin, alonso and I went to Maine last december. 1) it's all gaga 2) if it's not gaga, it's me trying to figure out what magic is contained in the refrains of these three songs
Replay by Iyaz

Whatcha Say by Jason Derulo

Let's Hear it for New York by Jay Z and Alicia Keys

there's something in these refrains that makes me feel something. it comes from outside of me and i feel good or strong, or like driving faster, or like singing loudly and bouncing up and down. also present in the Kaskade Remix of Break the Ice by Britney (~50 seconds in). this sort of feeling I think is unique to pop. it feels contrived, dirty, manufactured. it's like the assholes who made that song "Tonight's Gonna Be a Good Night" knew they were gonna make it big.

i think it's that aaj kal (these days) I'm supersensitive to media. I feel like I'm overloading, I'm hyperstimulated. my mind's been whirling a mile a minute, even now when I'm alone with my dog in the house. I can't be quiet except when I went to the Quaker meeting house on sunday. i'm so excited and confused to be back and but i haven't yet given myself any responsibilities that come with home. whirr whirr whirring with activity and a low balance on my bank account. waahfladjklfa ca

but while we're on the topic of youtube,
check out Julia's Bad Romance video (julia is mine and justin's friend. she lives in Mass and made this video for something at her school. &she won!)

oh also wayyyyy to much gaga. i'm taking a break for a while. probably until j comes back. (a week)