Don't let the Sextupus getcha down, kids.
August 21, 2008
Aestival Songs: #1
The story of our small affair is told by your wedding ring caught up in my tangled hair and gleaming. The first kiss of the new year, the new first of my kiss year… I really thought I could love you, love seemed so austere. See that room with the couch? With the crank to pull it out? And all the scratches on the wall? That’s where I learned to drink; learned how not to sleep; learned how to steal and crawl. Does she know that you come to see me? Does she think that you’re going to leave her for me? Go now and assure her I just need you for the night. Soften the edges. Dull the lights. Down here in the gutter, my wild heart moans and mutters. Days subside and shudder in the champagne summer.
August 20, 2008
What anxiety looks like when it sleeps.
All his thoughts turned into freckles and began flying off his skin. Soon the air of the room was so thick with the tiny like fruit flies or whatever that he couldn’t even really like breathe anymore. Every time he inhaled his throat would fill with the itching flutters of their beating wings until finally he woke up, coughing and spitting, eyes watering from the debris. Sleep does him no good. No good at all.
(sketch)
No rest for the restless.
August 17, 2008
Bang!
June is lost in a spiral of depravity, clinging to any man–or woman–that will have her. Will she ever unravel the sordid secrets of her mother’s death? And how many more must die before the truth is told?
June JeJune
August 15, 2008
Why this database is valuable.
Emphasis mine, spell-checking theirs. Found poetry from worldvitalrecords.com:
Why This Database is Valuable: The Death Master File (DMF) from the Social Security Administration (SSA) contains over 80 million records of deaths that have been reported to SSA. This file includes the following information on each decedent, if the data are available to the SSA: social security number, name, date of birth, date of death, state or country of residence (prior to Mar 1988), ZIP code of last residence, and ZIP code of lump sum payment. The SSA does not have a death record for all persons; therefore, SSA does not guarantee the veracity of the file. Thus, the absence of a particular person is not proof this person is alive. The collection is not search-able by SSN.
August 15, 2008
Some kinda love story: Pt.1
n. par•a•bi•o•sis: (pār’ə-bī-ō’sĭs)
1. The natural or surgical union of anatomical parts of two organisms, usually involving exchange of blood.
2. A temporary suspension of conductivity or excitability in a nerve.
v. cleave (klēv)
1. To split with or as if with a sharp instrument.
2. To adhere, cling, or stick fast.
1.
Once I saw the penny, I had to have it. I was just stepping out of my car. I had nice heels on, you know, the nicest ones I owned. Sling back creme-colored things. But there was the penny. Heads up. Lucky penny and I could use some goddamn good luck. Slimed over with brackish stringy golden greenish black mold glinting and slithering in place. Driven down into the mud and bird crap in the gutter. So I crouched down and grabbed it. Covered my hand in shitmuck to the wrist. Turned out it was a candy wrapper. Just my luck. There wasn’t even any candy in it.
2.
Paul was always around. I guess he knew me before I knew anything about him. He used to buy records from me, but that’s not how I remember meeting him. In high school I worked at the only record store in town that carried Green Day albums released before Dookie stunk up the charts. This is when pop punk seemed fresh and exciting. In hindsight, I spent a lot of time listening to bad records. It wasn’t so long ago that I was young.
You’d never know it now. Sunken eyes, sallow skin, sores and pimples and a slump in my walk. He aged me. He couldn’t help it. I look at pictures of him now and I’m amazed I didn’t figure it out how it would end before it began. He looks the same. All that crazy fucking hair, the bent-up glasses, the beard. That half smile he only wears for pictures. Those dark eyes. I should’ve seen it coming. I can’t speak for the disturbed men of any other scientific disciplines, but ladies, I can tell you this:
Never date a mad biologist.
3.
Sometimes you bond with a person so deeply and so intensely it’s like a contradiction. You need them so badly that you hate them for making you weak. You resent them for needing you as badly as you’ve made them want you. “Parabiosis” is when two organisms bond via blood but also when nerves shut down. “Cleave” means to cling together and to break apart. Once parabiosis occurs, the organisms should be cleaved. One way or another. Get it?
Parabiotic Existence
4.
So my roommate Zack asks me, “You wanna go over to this guy Paul’s place? He’s got the best weed. Seriously, all sticky bud, no disappointments.”
And I’m thinking, “That can’t be possible,” because like, everything disappoints me, I’m like QUEEN Mopey, but I just ask “How?” We don’t have cars or bikes or jetpacks or whatever and it’s too hot to walk.
So Zack’s like, “Chill, I’ll be back.” And takes off walking barefoot down the block. Not shifty at all. In less than an hour he shows back up. Huffing and puffing in the Florida heat on the back of the stupidest looking piece of shit bike I’ve ever seen. Next to him he clutches the handlebars of a shinier, more comfortable bike.
“I didn’t wanna ride the one I got for you,” he says. “I want you to break it in”.
“Stupid,” I say, “Kelly broke it in.”
“Who’s Kelly?”
“The kid you stole it from, man.” One good tug on the little fake license plate hanging from the back of the bike tears it free. I toss it to Zack.
I guess he’s in love with me.
Of course, he’s going to die. So I can’t be bothered to love him back.
