dreaming...

should have had the camera. but as soon as the thought occurs the puddles are already drying. perfect light vanishing. less than a minute. gone. how many times has the thought occurred?

if all day and all days you're sorting to the bottom pinching off chaff shelling husking where does it go? he meanwhile is filling his pockets. shuffling barnacle. adhesive. encrusted. and at the end of one day you lay down and fall asleep marveling at one almond. then he unloads. but you're sleeping. unastonished. he leans over your ear and tells you you're an idiot. and busts out his lantern to cast his moving shadows. the shadows taste like almonds.

counting backwards from 4. one is asleep. so much untouchable from any outside. not off so easy though. after absorbing soluble impressions. soaked through and ringing. old old faithful.

wellidy.

sanrio assassin...

i wrote a letter the other day to my dearest friend. i had a lot to say. about 10 pages. the stationary was rice based and lightweight. i bought it about ten years ago i think. hello kitty. i never used it much because most of my letter writing opportunities required my parting with my money. a professional relationship. kitty-chan doesn't go over so well. anyhow, i wrote the aforesaid letter and began putting it in the included cloud-bedecked envelopes. the paper was too large. no problem. i know how to fold paper right? right? hmm. no matter which way i folded the paper it did not want to fit. i finally rolled it like a burrito and wedged it inside. i was just going to throw on a few stamps and toss it in the box. but as i was on the way to mail it i bumped into the father. he said, "you going to mail that?" and i said, " yeah. i figure i'll just throw some stamps on. the post office is closed. this thing has to be more than 37 cents worth." then he started talking about 9/11 and how i shouldn't just throw too many stamps on because it will look suspicious and my letter might be delayed (i.e. torn assunder and set upon by bomb dogs). so i waited until the post office was open so i could have the letter weighed and pay my .49 cents. for the record, i never deal out death with hello kitty stationary. kerokerokeroppi is far more sinister.

listening: salsa scratch-- rob swift.


bad badtz-maru! look out!

mittwoch...

so strange. quickly: i had a dream last night. in the corporate bathroom drying my hands. a freya (they were plural...what is plural freya? i no know.) issued from the stall behind me. she was huge. brawny. in waking life i know the name freya but not the mythology. when i woke this morning i thought she was goddess of war. mostly because of her size in the dream. so she issues from the stall and asks me about poetry. what?! then a bunch of her freyakind also issue. they also want to know about poetry. i am puzzled. i say, "but isn't today your workout day? isn't it mittwoch?" and they laugh and say, "you mean mitjaar?" and then i laugh and say, "oh right! i forgot." the freya are huge. think "starla" or similar. they ask about a specific black bookcloth bound edition. if i've received it. "no, it hasn't arrived yet," i say. then a door appears in the far wall and they say, "we have to go now. we've got a show." i can hear stadium noises coming from the doorway. they smile and laugh and wave good-bye.

what the?!

and you know. midweek used to be odin's day. so strange!

just now i found some info about this freya. she was how do you say very friendly. very friendly. and she had a cloak made of feathers. and the feather cloak transformed the wearer into a bird. well.

i'm just going to turn off my brain now. it knows way too much for its own good. where does it come from?

whatwhatwhatwhatwhat.

my prof used to say to class "your brain is smarter than you." and it's true. i don't even understand. dunnodunno.

broad...

through a window the amazing takes place. why a night walk is always worth walking. fishbowls. suddenly after dark people forget streets still extend. no they aren't left floating. untouchable yellow static in dark sea. observe shadows skipping across bright hollows. not intentional. not on the look-out. but it's a draw isn't it. lantern fish. the pull of shiny things. why we notice stars. or stages. maybe also why they forget us noticing. that hinges on position. previously: arguments, suppers, compulsive weight-lifting, the man always thinking on his fist, kitchen-counter couple coupling. the last almost unbelief. but too very real to be otherwise. take off your ballcap, son. or i don't know. go team, go! sinks in: everyone/everywhere.

when i returned i unleashed the hounds. set out again. the catalpa at the razed place is blooming. how's that for out of sorts. broad leaves. broad accents. i crept through the grasses. such a strong word. and inaccurate because my sneak was broken. tripped through some thorniness. snapped off two small branches. tripped doubly leaving. i know how to break cadence.

morse code has become my current obsession. check it: dah-dah dit-dah di-dah-dit dah-di-dah-dah. it might be me. but i'm only beginning so it might be nothing. you can use lights. lights! like music it's referential. if whole is so long half is half as long. of course. fourths. eighths. only here it's dit/dah. and similarly it's widely understood. meaning language is no barrier. code is cool. i approve.

to bed!

most awkward...

from the bus window i looked into the window of the half house. strapped to the back of the blue tow truck. inside a chandelier was hanging. it was angled and arrested with grey cable. it didn't move. if i had half a house i wouldn't have a chandelier. ostentation.

behind the house (briefly) a boy in a broad-rimmed sun hat and heavy bag on his back. a very small boy. the grass was up around his waist. and before the boy several miles of hills with undulating grain. it was ridiculously pretty. a wave of wind skimmed off of waves. and then waving grain.

occupied with dot-to-dots. really the simplest machines. pulleys and string. they appear flat. but suspect that some recede into a white distance. tightening. some strain forward. tightening. even simply i'm clumsy. a bird almost appears. the defining line recedes. a bird almost appears. a beam comes sharp against me. and unlike numbered instruction the plots have yet to. figures without figures.

in other news...

a gaggle of nerds camped outside the freemont theatre. i like them! even the one wearing darth garb. the on-lookers were scowling. someone was terribly offended that people wasted their energy on such. it's got to be wasted on something. like bitching for instance.

if you please--draw me a sheep...

there are five of them. kittens. a feral cat deposited them in the shed. she is wiley. defeated the hav-a-hart trap. but i stole the kittens. they eat from the milk syringe and have a fondness for cashmere sweaters. one has white-rimmed eyes. owl-eyed. he's noisy and also irresistible. one has a pointed face. black. siamese. she's very smart and after feeding the nipple's exit makes a distinct popping noise. she does everything with all her might. one is grey and yowly. one is so terribly wall-eyed that i avoid looking directly into his face. he's one of my favorites but the sight of him makes me laugh. and laughing thus generates a bit of guilt. one has white tipped toes and hisses.

this is not the first litter she's left for us. i stole and bottle fed the last batch as well. she's a kitten machine. so it's imperative that we catch her and alter her. i hate altering. fixing doesn't sound nice either. from the other litter the brother retained three. a matching set of tabbies and their silver sister. today he was well enough to be outside teasing bertrand-cat with a long willow switch. he reached into the tree to gather other switches. i yelled at him. he is still incisioned after all. and terribly stubborn.

the sister and i walked to the place of the olivetti. i came away with a stately aeonium. looks like landed brachiopod stalk. something dredged up shiny. also the very heavy carven bird. wooden. i carried the aeonium wobbly in its pot. the sister carried a bag of loot in which the wooden magpie rested. plastic bag. and then at once the magpie had awled the plastic with his bill. it looked ridiculous. we laughed. another three steps and he fell out onto his head. the bill and tail are chipped. tonight i'll smooth over this with a sandy square of paper. then anoint him with oil.

maybe it's a seagull. there's no such thing. maybe it's a gull then.

some books. the favorite little prince. and for the father's birthday a copy of austin tappan wright's islandia. he already owned several of those. but he lends books something fierce. even after we gifted him with the giant m embosser the books stray. never find their way home again. anyway he loves islandia.

thanked my lucky stars to have had the headphones today. the time in transit is improved. vastly. listened over and again to medulla. i gave it a break for several months but i'm back on it again. and bjork always sounds best with phones i think.

while waiting i watched several layered shadows on the concrete. sycamore just coming into leaf. but really not sycamore but shadows. and my brain is so much smarter than me. won't abandon the sycamore. nor abandon distinction. it's a sycamore. it's a tree. it's a tree. a tree. etc. but when a big wind blew through the top of the tree (the actual tree) the upmost branches moved. the lower contrariwise. then very soon it was not a tree an actual tree. it was just shadow. and then it was just movement. and hrrrrrrrunn too too hrrrrrrunn too too.... then it was almost a state of hypnosis.

the little prince escaped by bird. it's a point of importance. a matter of consequence. he has interesting views concerning horticulture too. or so the narration would lead me to believe.

but seeds are invisible. they sleep deep in the heart of the earth's darkness, until some one among them is seized with the desire to awaken. then this little seed will stretch itself and begin--timidly at first--to push a charming little sprig inoffensively upward toward the sun.

also flowers are not at all afraid of tigers.

now for magpie and sleep.

m.d.

he's being a contrary feller that brother. this morning was surgery. while waiting consumed a shameful lot of loquat. stolen. from the seeds there'll be little trees. rose family. as he swam up from the bottom he answered the nurses okeee-dokeeee. can you hear me? mmmmmm. and now he demands yogurt and flavor specific. very particular. the good news is he can't move. feeling inspired to harass i am. what he reaps from being sassy.

the auto will now move in every direction. i believe she'll even hover. the men that work at the local volvo are all attractive and wear intellect specs. mark and remember.

the father paid a visit and drilled me on my pro-nunc-ee-a-shun. exquisite. hyrdogenated. banal. we differ here and align there. i've still got some maternal quirk in my sound. that i don't say winder is a blessin. i reckon.

tomorrow being a friday the flavor specified will change. however i will remain. let's us hope sleep will take some sour from the patient. that the pills do something useful. one thing i can't abide is watching untouchable misery.

souvenir cluster of loquat there. and a turpentine perfumed mango. while i hear snoring i'll have me some and sleep myself.

turntable...

turntablism is the word of the day. one of us goes missing. this is where you'll find him. discussing with piano hands.

two new plant books today. new to me. one 1950ish and b&w. exotic houseplants. one nicely illustrated. line drawing. watercolor. also houseplants.

sister: what did he die from?
me: alcohol. that's my guess.
sister: yeah, but psoriasis of the liver? wait! that's not it!
me: no. but that would be a problem.

all this scratchins make makin me rich me rich...

aloe. allay. it doesn't get less dead.

next question. is it of great concern? aye/nay.

make with the wrap up. make with the interview end.

sword of omens give me sight beyond sight!

foresee/foresaw. peaksy. i was going to say presentiment. about face. but these cases just appear. seers i believe go asking for it. if you look in entrails you see entrails. can't say fairer than that.

fairer than that.

than that than that. i made it from scratch. you like?

the sap may produce a rash...

allergens. would they persist if half cat? producer! really keep your skin to yourself.

i've heard they grow kitty grass. for the housebound feline. used to be temples for bast.

drunkards on the grass. alas.

skipskippityskipskip...

inconsistency...

it's raining. this is newsworthy. a wet year. hills and dales etc. still green in may. significant.

porco rosso. our hero is called the crimson pig. it's the first i've seen of that one. i have a substantial crush on miyazaki. he sees so much.

imbibed. coca cola. remembered why i don't drink soda. mainly my enjoyment of tooth enamel.

it's not true. sometimes i drink soda. ginger ale. bi-annual faygo (black raspberry). rare is my soda consumption. especially when iced green (black, oolong, white) tea is so nice (sans sugar).

but then sugar in thai tea/coffee is wonderful.

how did i arrive here. inconsistency. it's not a question.

dreamt the small mammalian bird wanted to clean my teeth crocodileways. i balked. bird persuaded. on the adjacent street corner. and we did. a car drove by. another. both peeling out. upon turning saw the silver leaf flaking in the ruts.

the telephone woke me up. asia. imagine what could have been!

learned a new plant today. which is actually a plant familiar to me but forgotten. the one inheritance that i kept for so long. and left too long for the frost. always wondering what was the appeal? why did she acquire? but really on the other line patience makes it flower. i never saw. not so deep. i'm not steering toward a koan. only a product of maintenance. discover over a shoulder how it's done. and that let's suppose means steps in a forward direction.

hoya. how forward. yes. let's.

oh. it was related to asclepias. those are some of my favorites.

go now and try to see lightning in my cup. rainyrainrain. that's a measure too near eddie rabbit. back away slowly.

it's hardly raining. again it's soft.

'night.

ta ta tee tee ta...

i beat my rug this afternoon/evening. in the background someone was testing their old timey train whistle. attached to train. said locomotive a trolley more than anything. it hauls wealthy tourists to prevent wine related auto collision. but train whistle high and frequent and train out of sight seems very petticoat junction. beating rug in the shadow of a steamcloud. nows all i need is a triangle. and ladle.

i've been searching for spectacles. none seem to suit me. it's difficult to find the right frame.

maternal, mathematics, mature, mazurka, may day. i accidentally bibliomanced. what does it mean?! hard cheese! fiddlesticks!

tuckered.

richie havens singing here comes the sun...little darlin' it seems like years since it's been clear...

our music teacher used to make us sing the folk songs. and we'd sing exercises. ta ta tee tee ta. and we'd sing some classic rock. and hymns.

now for a lullaby. the cats will all join in. yes.

spectacles...

for about an hour over the headphones i could hear the frog grinding his pepper in the ivy. long sentence without pause that. well.

i made an appointment with the eye man this morning. i got the last slot for tomorrow. i was going to make the appointment last friday but it slipped my mind. i like glasses. they are sexy. but i can't wear glasses. no. not enough cushiony goodness on my (jewishy/native americany/scottishy) nose. i put on sunglasses and before long the nose is very red and sore. but i think i'm going home with glasses tomorrow. hmph.

two yellow birds almost got blown right on top of my head today! the wind was strong. the birds very very yellow. it was cool.

i'm still enjoying moby dick. all i'd previously read of melville was billy budd. partly. i got bored. which is sad considering the length.

i have to sleep now.

again with the birds...

shrill hungry birds all over town. once in the plowed field turning the ground. most overhead crowding the elms.

darling, you don't have to call me starling...

i'm much too sleepy to do this properly. birdsbirdsbirdsbirds.

all you can taco!

it's purt near midnight. i'm having a slab of salted watermelon and some chocolate soy milk. i do not recommend the pairing. (hiccup)

this afternoon we went grocery shopping. among other things i brought home a wee little nepenthes.

me: it has pitchers, see. (explaining to the sister)
sister: alright sam spade.
me: that's mean.
sister: i can't help it if you're a nerd.
me: who's nerdier? you're the one making sam spade references.

for the record, i didn't say "it has pitchers, see" in a spade-ish/noir-ish detective voice on purpose. it just came out that way.

sam spade...grumble...that sister...grrr...

there's a blue cowboy riding an orangasaur over my shoulder. not *over* my shoulder. but behind me. i left my toys out and s.b. had a field day.

one hand is holding a melon crescent. the typing is slow and flawed.

we passed a furniture store. the name of which: furniture for les!

les! is not due to melon. them's only got one s. the sister said it's a warehouse full of discount furniture- furniture that belongs to les. wish he'd come and clear his crap out. my thinking: maybe only those called les could purchase furniture there. but then it would have to be furniture for leses! maybe it's for one specific les.

not far from furniture for les! there was an all you can taco. i'm not sure what particular action is being put forward by that verb. i can't recall tacoing anything. well. maybe once. but i've never been to an all you can taco buffet. $3.99! all you can taco!

alrighty.

oh. happy may day!