archives for February 2009
friday (the 13th) refrain · happy impending climacteric
Friday 13 February 2009 | 3 cookies in the jar
Childless Woman The womb Rattles its pod, the moon Discharges itself from the tree with nowhere to go. My landscape is a hand with no lines, The roads bunched to a knot, The knot myself, Myself the rose you achieve— This body, This ivory Ungodly as a child’s shriek. Spiderlike, I spin mirrors, Loyal to [...]
read ‘friday (the 13th) refrain · happy impending climacteric’
at the limin
Thursday 12 February 2009 | I like a cookie
Our uncertainty and doubt extend to the infinite sky and throughout time, shrouding perfection, blurring truth, undermining what feeble faith we can muster, reminding us that we are both divine and mortal, that we live both inside time and outside time, that we are creatures of many worlds, and that we will always wonder, and [...]
three years ago
Thursday 12 February 2009 | someone left a cookie
Eloise was still missing and it was, you know, Sylvia’s death-day, and I’d emailed a bunch of people to ask for help with the door-to-door missing-cat canvassing, and no one had written me back to say they would come help, and I had no inner resources, so of course I despondently went over to the [...]
the blank, untenanted air
Wednesday 11 February 2009 | I like a cookie
read ‘the blank, untenanted air’
who knew?!
Tuesday 10 February 2009 | I like a cookie
That the Duende used to look like this? Walt there on the right, for contrast.
is this thing still on? or, my marxist-feminist dialectic brings all the boys to the yard; or, 25 cosas más aléatoires
Tuesday 10 February 2009 | 11 cookies in the jar
1. None of these will be in any particular order, so you can just park that linear, sequential part of your brain for the time being. Keep calm and carry on! 2. It turns out that Valium, when cautiously abused as a muscle relaxant, is really great for back spasms. Holy BENZO is it great. [...]
simones and their turbans
Sunday 1 February 2009 | 4 cookies in the jar
Re-researching de Beauvoir, I suffer an epiphany: So, had Castor’s arch-enemy Weil survived herself, she’d eventually have had to wear one too, right? It’s like, some kind of required Simone uniform? PS and here’s Mlle de B. as you’ve never seen her before…completely turbanless. Anyway I hadn’t. Though apparently Nelson Algren did, and often.
