Dreaming

I'm still sleeping. I must be still dreaming. I've got the Spree blaring on the computer, a pool outside my temporary back door, hours to be spent in the Four Seasons spa just around the corner, the hottest most coolest guy ever to maybe come over within the next few days, a new job to start Monday, extra shifts to pick up at my recent job, coffee going luke-warm. "On my way" and "hey it's the sun and it makes me shine".

Too bad i've still got rent to pay for a place I can't sleep or spend ten minuets in.

Damn heat. Beautiful sun.

And oh I want to write about you. Just how happy you make me.

And to shave my legs everyday. "Practice".

And this sound in my ears makes me want to dance or sing or smile or all three at the same time. But i'll keep it to sitting and closing my eyes, taking it all in, such ambience!!!

I'm going to go on a bike ride before it's too hot, which it already is, but i'm going to pretend it's not and send myself on a suicide mission.

Writing is for the birds. Plum wine is for us.

Shopping on Amazon

A word of advice – when you’re shopping on Amazon.com, and one of those “buy this and get this disc, too, for only…” scrolls past your eye, make sure you know what you’re buying before you click on it. I bought the newest Converge disc; it’s great. I also bought this disc by a group called From Autumn to Ashes, assuming that, hey, Amazon wouldn’t steer me wrong. Then I find out that my roommate was recommened the DVD about Pearl-Harbor after buying a VIDEO CARD – clearly, nothing is sacred.

Poems and Poetry

i. OK, I've been reading sean o'brien and about o'brien. his criticism appears on the edge of brash surlyness. for example, in the poetry review he called keith tuma's "anthology..." 'cack'.

iia. I love the end of this ugly poem though - 'fiction and the reading public' - a character, dexter, asks for books to read on death row so his friends give him 'fonda's workout book' and 'how to be a sucker' with the comment:

"Here Dex, these ought to shut you up,
Pretentious little fucker."

iib. this rhymes with p*t*rs*n's minister in 'the alexandrian library pt. 2' (??): "For fuck's sake son, get real." though there's a wobbly ambivalence in the o'brien poem: almost as if the hard stomp of the line ('fucker' unbalancing, and pulling away from the line, the plank bridge laid across by the 'little' fulcrum) is some sort of judgement some sort of agreement. which I'm not having. I'm not sure he's having it either, to be honest. am I allowed to talk like this? is this OK?

iii. apparently he thinks poetry is 'post-imaginative'. I'm not really sure what this means though.

iv. 'Hitler, that flag-waving cunt' -> 'Imagine life with nothing left/But Verdi and a wank' -> :-O -> 'o'brien often can't end a poem except by throwing in some explosion of some kind.'

v. his poems seem very coarse in that inarticulably-bad way that someone like irvine welsh or duncan mcclean both write. I'm not sure I have a problem with that or this though.

vi. he edited an anthology of poetry in response to the tuma one called 'the firebox'. derrida coined a phrase I stole in 'the tongue of fire.' I stole it when I wrote about raking through the cinders of my last relationship as a 'vocabulary of arson.' I like the cut of this jib.

vii. 'o'brien has written the definitive arse poem.' (alan munton)

viiia. "Their present is nobody's business,/ So don't talk to them about nippers// Or fires in buckets, or windfalls:/ They go for your throat not your poems." !!!!!!!!!!

viiib. this is an allusion to a l*rk*n poem, 'toads'.

ix. !!!!! cf. viii.

TWO MORE DRINKS OF SOUTHERN COMFORT (HOROSCOPES)

ARMADILLO (NOV 23 - DEC 21)

You have a tendency to develop a tough exterior, but you are actually quite gentle and kind inside. A good evening for you? Old friends, a fire, some roots, fruit, worms, and insects.

You're not concerned with anything about today. You're almost prehistoric in your interests and behavior patterns. You probably want to marry another Armadillo, but a Possum is another somewhat kinky mating possibility.


CATFISH (JULY 24 - AUG 23)

Catfish are traditionalists in matters of the heart, although one's whiskers may cause problems for loved ones. You Catfish are never easy people to understand.

You run fast. You work and play hard. Even though you prefer the muddy bottoms to the clear surface of life, you are liked by most. Above all else, Catfish should stay away from Moon Pies.