Kansas City, you taught me how to have my guard up but still be supportive. Musicians, poets, comedians, and cigarette corporations all sharing and giving at the same time in one room.
Madison, I still think the ten year old polka band drummer from the Essen Haus was up to something backstage. I'm applying for his job one of these days.
Milwaukee, never have I known courage like I did when I was within your borders. I didn't get to stay long, but I'll remember it always.
New York City, I travelled so many miles on your subways. I had to buy a new pair of shoes and I wasn't even there for an entire week. Somehow by getting lost in such a frenzy of lives, I learned what mine was lacking. The truth is out there, just waiting to be found. I won the ticket lottery for a show while I was there and literally squealed for joy. I can't wait to see you again.
Toronto... I have this memory of you being so perfect, and I feel I may never be able to take off these rosy colored glasses I've been wearing since I was there. I met some crazy cats there, that jolted me... They didn't frighten or scare. Until you prove me wrong, I'll always have a spot in my heart for you.
Lansing, in the hem of the skirt of your border I lived for half a year. You were thrilling, and inclusive. It's a different world to be a part of. I found my Alvarez in you, and had a milliard laughs. I'll always have some sort of tie to you.
Detroit, why do I always get lost in you? You are a fucked up wonderful city that contains so much juxtaposition it makes my head spin in the most satisfying way. If I visit you, there's some wicked cool shit going down.
Battle Creek. Keep waking up.
|Choose a band/artist and answer only in song TITLES by that band:||The Pixies|
|Are you male or female:||Velouria|
|Describe yourself:||I've Been Tired|
|How do some people feel about you:||Is She Weird|
|How do you feel about yourself:||In Heaven|
|Describe your ex girlfriend/boyfriend:||Wave of Mutilation|
|Describe your current girlfriend/boyfriend:||La La Love You|
|Describe where you want to be:||All Over the World|
|Describe what you want to be:||Gigantic|
|Describe how you live:||Head On|
|Describe how you love:||Dig For Fire|
|Share a few words of wisdom||Ed is Dead and Brick is Red|
No one will chug.
'Cos I act like a thug
and give bad hugs.
So last night I went to the mall and waited for Sarah to get out of work. I found the Tegan and Sara CD nightbug75</span> </span></span> recommended. (It's great!). We went to the Ball Joint and played some pool. She really kicks ass at billiards so I learned some of the lingo and things like that. They gave me Bell's Amber Ale in a huge Goblet type cup (?). Then two fellas decided to take us on in teams and we won 2 out of 3. Being around decent players brought out what slight talent I have in billiards.
My hair smells good.
i wanted to write
but revolution doesn't lend
itself to be-bopping
then my neighbor
who thinks i hate
asked-do you ever write
tree poems-i like trees
so i thought
i'll write a beautiful green tree poem
peeked from my window
to check the image
noticed the school yard was covered
no green-no trees grow
then, well, i thought the sky
i'll do a big blue sky poem
but all the clouds have winged
low since no-Dick was elected
so i thought again
and it occurred to me
maybe i shouldn't write
but clean my gun
and check the kerosene supply
perhaps these are not poetic
While I was building neat
castles in the sandbox,
the hasty pits were
filling with bulldozed corpses
and as I walked to the school
washed and combed, me feet
stepping on the cracks in the cement
detonated red bombs.
Now I am grownup
and literate, and I sit in my chair
as quietly as a fuse
and the jungles are flaming, the under-
brush is charged with soldiers,
the names on the difficult
maps go up in smoke.
I am the cause, I am a stockpile of chemical
toys, my body
is a deadly gadget,
I reach out in love, my hands are guns,
my good intentions are completely lethal.
passive eyes transmute
everything I look at to the pocked
black and white of a war photo,
can I stop myself
It is dangerous to read newspapers.
Each time I hit a key
on my electric typewriter,
speaking of peaceful trees
another village explodes.
Not really. Really it's just too early and I need some coffee. I just wanted to see what this journal would look like with an actual entry. Yes, it's entirely superficial of me.