Poetry Corner Friday: Seven Years
I’ve heard that the noise in my head has a volume dial. Turn down. Way down.
...read more hereArchive for March, 2011
On all the different places
Usually when I imagine moving out again, it is to a place that’s very much like my studio in Flatbush where I lived with my husband… but why limit the imagination? I’d like to own a brownstone in Brooklyn Heights or Cobble Hill or a similar neighborhood… one of those three-or-four-story historical houses with a wide open back yard (you think we don’t have back yards in New York? We have back yards… some of us…)
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On an Indian boy
He’s a nice guy. He’s a really nice guy. He’s considerate and compassionate and understanding and sensitive in a non-confrontational way… he’s exactly the opposite of most of the other men in my life. Nothing about him makes me think “you fucking jerk…”
...read more here#MusicMonday: You Love Me
You woo me, you court me, you tease me, you please me
You school me, give me some things to think about
Ignite me, you invite me, you co-write me…
On a girlfriend
“What did you want with her anyway?” he asked.
“I wanted to say hello, and I wanted to give her one of my old books. Can I give it to you to give to her?”
“No. I want you to pretend she doesn’t exist.”
Did I mention that he’s a Leo?
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On cardboard boxes
There has to be some corner of the city, some cardboard box or other into which I can crawl and hide when I’m done with the world. I already know that it’s up to me to create this box. I just wish I knew where to find some fucking cardboard…
...read more hereOn… whatever
I’ve got to get out of here… it’s like I’m being tied to the hood of a yellow rental truck being packed in with fertilizer and fuel oil and pushed off a cliff by a suicidal Mickey Mouse… I’ve got to got to got to find a way to get over the moon… Brownie points [...]
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