Tuesday, August 21, 2007

On Washer Standing

Hi all-

Washer Standing

"You only get mad about
being seen doing things
you know are wrong.

That's why the man
yelling at his kid in the
Laundromat doesn't care
if I hear him or pretend I don't.

That's when I saw you.
In one of those fleece
coats with logos on the
chest and on the back
as if it's also the chest

You have one of those
hats you've bent the
brim into blinders on,
and it frames your glasses well.

It's your calfs that get me.
That little muscle you can see
flex when you're just so
reaching into the dryer.

I stand against my
washer where you can see me.
Reading my book and glancing,
trying not to be as awkward as me.

Because I'd never actually
start a conversation with a hot man.
Waitresses, strangers in line
at the store, they're a different story.

At least you know your
clothes are well-folded, as
you meticulously put them away.

And I know my T-shirts are
brighter white, like our track
records as we pass each other by."


Sunday, August 19, 2007

On Plastic Bubbles for Only a Quarter

Hi all-

Plastic Bubble

"She was one of those people
that if you put a quarter in the machine
and turned the crank
you'd get out in a plastic bubble
when you really wanted the bouncy ball
or the plastic spider ring

when you've forgone jerry's kids
and a handful of decade old madeup fruit candy
to try your luck at something longer lasting

now all you have is this woman
standing outside the bar and smiling
with men all around her
and you wonder what they see in her
that makes her a better toy
than this plastic bubble."


Friday, August 10, 2007

On Graffiti

Hi all-

"when i see graffiti. I'm glad to see that the post-industrial bullshit thats put up all clean and white can still get its hands dirty. all the future lawyers and firemen, the aggressive youths of today are really just human vines. creeping up the sides of the white concrete and holding that overpass back down to the earth. nature's vines are curvy and wet... human vines are all angles and dry. blue and purple and covered in a name sake only possible by something with so much self and so little self-control. Much like a vine. Much like a future."


Wednesday, August 8, 2007

On Tans and Spears

Hi all-

Cross posted from LJ...

"These plants need water like I need this tan I'm trying to get. That tan that makes sure that my first long day out in the sun this year won't bake me like a potato. That's what winter does to you: it makes you pile on aluminum foil that's guaranteed to melt the butter on you before you escape.

I don't water his. I leave them to whatever plan or schedule he follows. They aren't mine to encroach upon; it's not my place. Besides, they are exotic things with stiff leaves and ceramic pots. My plants are things like ivy and bamboo in whatever plastic container they came in. Watering them is easy. Do you have water? If so, give them some. End of story. His plants are complicated, and I best leave them well enough alone.

The sun is crisping the edges of the leaves in this window. I wonder how many times I'll have to lay in the sun to get the tan I'm looking for. Five, ten? No way to know. When I go from looking like a lima bean to a coffee bean without stopping at kidney, that'll be how many times. No, coffee beans are too dark, that's too lofty a goal for my complexion... I'd be setting myself up for failure.

I only want to be as dark as the construction worker I saw as I drove home today. the kind of tan you get when you haven't quite let your last sunburn heal before you go out and get another one. The kind of tan that he never even asked for, he was just doing his job. Roofs, decks, front lawns. He became beautiful by complete accident, which is something working in an office does not afford you. I have to go out looking for my accidents. Day by day I have to stalk them. If I did so in nothing but a loin cloth, beauty would come faster I think. More sun that way. More muscle from carrying that heavy spear."


Tuesday, August 7, 2007

On Afternoon Coffee

Hi all-

Cross-posted from LJ...

"afternoon coffee

I've taken to having a cup of coffee and some fruit in the afternoon. This is much like tea and cakes but without either. Today is strawberries. It's summer now, and time for strawberries, although the ones from the grocery store are all bruised and either too ripe or not enough. One has a green tip, and I eat it anyway. When you live in a place with four seasons, it's not enough that you hate winter, you have to love summer too.

Only two of the five are worth eating, despite the begrudging acceptance of sub-standard berries. I sip my coffee occasionally, trying to take in a book. There's some white paint on my hands that I forgot to wipe off, and some blood too. I had itched my ear hard wrong. Moments like that you hardly think about until you go to shake someone's hand. In this case, I'm more worried about staining the page.

I painted some sunflowers this afternoon, which is where the paint came from. The painting looks like a five year old made it for their grandma. They would've taken more care if it were for mom and pop, they are paying attention to skill, after all. We all know grandma just appreciates the thought. Above the four sunflowers I had written 'sunflowers... always cheer me up!' This is both a statement and a command. Sometimes there's need for one or the other. Paintings should be flexible. I'll probably put this one somewhere obvious for a while, on the pub table or near the console. I want to be cheered up, and I want people to see that, yes, I do paint like a five year old, and no, it's not just to be charming, I really am that bad at painting. No need for pity, it's the summer time and sun flowers are the bee's knees."