cut

my hair today.

looks like about five inches gone. maybe i'll color it, too, just for good measure. then, i could always straighten it. or not

only a woman would make a post like this.

Secret Life

"Sir, more than kisses, letters mingle souls; for, thus friends absent speak”

“Be thine own palace, or the world's thy jail”

"Wicked is not much worse than indiscreet."

(two from Donne plus one more)

but i don't

want to go there.
and i don't want to do that.
and i don't want to talk about it.

i feel sick

Bomb in Baghdad Slum Kills 31
October Death Toll for U.S. Forces Climbs to 100
By CHRISTOPHER BODEEN, AP

kiss

but i don't

so you think you can tell...

some men think they might like a woman who loves
fucking and motherhood
motorcycles and gardening
sick poetry and sweet talk
dogs and cats
alleyways and dirt roads
talking dirty and getting dirty
guinness and merlot
goodbye and hello
sleeping naked and making dinner
venice and bayou la batre
razor blades and kissing boo boos
a career and a pantry
blow jobs and holding hands
garter belts and thick socks
mascara and homework
but really they call this a handful and it's a pain in the ass.

weight

big fat wet
crystaline globs are attacking my trees.
only two are vulnerable.
the pair of ash still have their leaves.
they fill and bow under the burden, inches
thick. it piles up and bends them over.
i woke this morning to find them
splayed open, from the top down.
they could crack under the weight.
i went out there with a rake,
trying to release them. up on my toes,
i reached as high as i could.
i lifted each branch,
gave it a shake. thick wet snow tumbled
down onto me, all around me, rested on lower
branches.

those two trees... they are the last
to find their leaves in the spring
and they hold them late, too.

countless

Oh I do believe
In all the things you say
What comes is better than what came before

And you'd better come come, come come to me

Lou Reed

i'll never forget calling and calling, lying on the floor crying. i got the point, eventually, and i scraped together some little bit of dignity and i began to move on. in one sense, i did a fine job of going away and in another i never really let it go. i need to do that again, now. it is not easy. i think i like the parts where i never really let go.
a couple of nights ago i did that desperate thing again, where i just dialed and dialed. there was no reply, no note or sign. it's obvious i need to go away. after i stopped the foolishness and turned out the light, i had a dream. it was a dream of such sweetness and innocence. it was pure and clean and delightful. i have played it over in my mind countless times.
i will play it over in my mind.

glitter and doorbells

you have to be pretty messed up, i guess, for normal to be so important.

last night was homecoming and my daughter's first date. she was beautiful and her date was nervous and it all seemed so normal that i was stunned. and grateful.

sad little druggy pop band

I always thought that I knew
I'd always have the right to
Be living in the kingdom of the good and true
and so on

but now I think how I was wrong
And you were laughing along
And now I look a fool for thinking you were on
my side

Is it any wonder I'm tired
Is it any wonder that I feel uptight
Is it any wonder I don't know what's right
Keane