tainted ladies 

tainted ladies 

aliens at the forefront 

killer Hassan and the clan of the cave beer 

killer Hassan and the watches of the night 

on fourth avenue III 

in the night room 

fourth avenue II 

fourth avenue 

andy in his studio 

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

cummings, bien sur, because it's those days.

what is different about this
is my redoubled unwillingness to be carried away, and yours.
and yet, as edward estlin seashell cummings sings
in my ear like a mockingbird, a heartbeat of waves:
'i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands-'
and the severity of your very true words
cuts through the pith and touches the white.
lets honey come seeping from my flesh,
slowly, once, and now faster.

somewhere in the interlocking letters of the night
beneath the blue light of sodium vapor lamps on ramps of snow
i woke from a nightmare:
a bridesmaid's white flowers in my hair and in a white lace dress,
the dancers at the wedding part as i pass,
and my old lover says to me that i missed our song:
number thirteen, out of twenty-six he counted
while i was outside smoking
and dancing, with a dark-haired man,
a madrigal, a tango, more gracious with the slant of my head
and rolling, fanning gestures of my hands.
while that boy waited inside with his face wet with perspiration, tears,
condensed drops rolling from his slowly-warming bottled beer.
i saw him there at the end of my mother's finger, at the edge of the crowd,
an oval of despair.
i am someone's bad dream.

from this,
i startle under your draped arm and turn to you in the dark
to meet you nose to nose.
and i say
'i was having such a bad dream.'
it was a hard talk earlier, for me.
but now i feel the willingness of your voice and the sweet warm smell of you.
your body, pushing back into mine, as my arm goes around your waist
and my nose into the hollow
between your shoulder-blades.
then we roll back under the sheet and covers,
and forming a double question-mark,
curl back into sleep again.

this is that sweet moment,
knowing that you are beside me,
and though you need not be told just now,
much beloved.

don't worry, i haven't forgotten all about you - just so busy with the new job that i haven't had a minute to do anything except work, sleep and...

the inauguration is coming up. oy.

more soon -

v

New Slogansfor America to Useto Sell Itselfto the Islamic World.
BY ROB BATES
- - - -
The Great Satan Is Now Just Plain Great!
Standing for Freedom and Democracy a Good Percentage of the Time
Home of the Brave, Land of the Free Moist Towelette
The Overwhelming Military Power with a Heart
We're Infidel-ightful!
Who Needs Al Qaeda When You Got Al Roker?

oh, God. McSweeney's lists: http://www.mcsweeneys.net/links/lists/

"A sense of humor is a measurement of the extent to which we realize that we are trapped in a world almost totally devoid of reason. Laughter is how we express the anxiety we feel at this knowledge."
-Dave Barry

bye bye, Dave!

generalissimo 

home 

at night, alone 

karie on the right, and me on the left

the tainted lady, in williamsburg 

the street 

mr. lewis hunter 

paul's restaurant 

abbot and costello 

and one more 

more... 

playing with my computer... 

inspired by yesterday's doodles with gustavo, here's a couple from my friend chris... 

oh, seriously gloomy today. gloomy weather, too. tomorrow is my last day at the iab, which is fine, but for the nonbonusgetting and the wrap up on projects i don't get to finish that i've been working on. don't get me wrong, i am so, so excited for my new gig, but i can't help but wish things here had turned out a bit differently. at least i'm leaving on my terms, and not on smug's.

smoking a lot today and feeling generally unfit and under the weather. i did run into my friend Louis on the street, which cheered me up a bit, and i'm going to see chantal tonight with karie for wine and cheese. i even made myself a reservation for lunch tomorrow at gramercy tavern, where i've wanted to go for a couple of years. (okay, five.) so what's my malfunction?

i need to get a little more exercise, go out on more dates and stop worrying. right? right??

it's definitely not christmas today.

http://www.bustedtees.com/product.php?name=aweso

all in a day's work. love the new MSN IM client... 

free download

here's a hot one from chuck prophet: http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/B000068VC9/ref=j_disp_dwnld_1/102-0507822-0415352?v=glance&s=music&st=digital-music

"Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, martini in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and screaming 'WOO HOO what a ride!'"
-Arne Salvesen

fails every spelling quiz i ever took...


You are a goddess!


Which Ultimate Beautiful Woman are You?
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bitterer

a thread of vinegar
drawn along my throat.

defeats.
i am braids of thoughts:
after all the wine,
i love to want the things that recede.
i hear mother's voice in mine
and i retreat.
the hot gray sky today
meets the open air
and it's welcome cold
after the heat beneath the street.
the city in january
-look both ways-
the lining of my year-old coat
has grown thin, and frays.

I am
not
T.S. Eliot
(toilets)

the people in the market at Union Square
the joy of my books;
paper slices of garlic;
his beautiful face;
the pleasures of logic;
this is my joy to the world.

defeats.

a six-month vacation on Union Square

thank God the holidays are over. now if i can just lose ten pounds by monday... as if.

Day of the Ex Boyfriends.

i got email from both ChriMu and JR and had a few pleasant moments writing them back and catching up. considering what a piece of crap i was to JR, it's a mitzvah that he's kind enough to write to me. on the other hand, Murph's a funny old thing (some of you know him as "EEC") and though we seldom speak, it's nice to hear what he's up to. hell, it's always good to hear that people one dedicated ginormous chunks of your life to are happy and doing well, even if you occasionally wish you could poke them with your And-another-thing finger or rewind the clock and be less of a jerk-off, or not have jumped in with both feet when cautious toes would have been wiser.

that's always it, though. for those of us in-love-with-love types, it's always the ungraceful cannonball, the major lift and the inevitable plunge, or as i think i called it a while back on this blog, the problem of gravity. what comes up must come down. my mom says that when you lost weight, the slower it comes off, the more likely it is to stay off. there's some corollary there to the problem of love.

i'm surely wiser at twenty six (?!?!!) than i was at twenty one, or at seventeen, but i still haven't quite got the thing down where you don't give your heart away in two months or six or whatever, where you remember that the other person has to deserve you, too. that, and that they probably mean 99% of the things they say that you don't like. hysterical.

i suggested that people should have warning labels. like the better business bureau, or standardized personality tests, you should be able to know in advance whether the perfectly lovely human being you sleep with three nights out of seven is ever going to warm up to the idea of a committed relationship, or whether they are Emotionally Unavailable. whether the beautiful girl your best friend is dating is really as charmingly innocent as he believes her to be, or if she is in fact Out Of Her Cotton-Pickin' Mind.

if anyone wants to volunteer information about themselves, shoot. that's what the comments are for and anyway, you can put nice things in, too. like, you could say: "ME!: intelligent, handsome, but extremely squirrelly 32 Y.O. with huge, enormous, dong, and deep-seated commitment issues. neat freak and vegetarian. YOU?: pref. intellectual types with glasses and at least two kinds of sex toys. blondes, over-thirties and type-A personalities need not apply, because i'm kind of insecure." and no crap about how that would take all the fun and mystery out of dating, because seriously, if that's what you think, then you're either fifteen or a Mormon, or both. dating could use a lot more fun and a lot less mystery, and that's a fact.

as for me:
ME: Highly sensual and indulgent Americanized Latina with big round ass seeks extremely masculine smarty-pants with a sense of humor about himself. Highly sentimental, introverted-extrovert, occasionally unreliable, often fickle, easily bored, sci-fi nerd. No metrosexuals!!! YOU: No midgets. No one who does not read whole actual books often. Me... Smoker, drinker, excellent cook. Snores when under the influence of alcohol. Loud. No dummy, but a bit of a space cadet. Rarely bitchy or maliciously insane.