i do not miss you (can you tell)

Waiting on a green scout t-shirt to come in the mail and not allowing too much silence, sometimes I pick up books and flip to the opening chapter, but I cannot proceed so I boil water and watch it clear butter from the bottoms of plates and unclog the sink, in this mood I would in the past have drunk myself to sleep, but this is among somewhat forgotten tendencies, and there is a desire to visit the ocean, a desire but not a will... I will try to read the one about New Orleans, or the one about birds.

Animistic Paper Luminaries, Kagoboyama

Warning, standing and falling will be hilarious!

am I going to need a new passport?

Rick Perry, you silly goose! Texas secession talk from the Governor is a really great idea. Worked out pretty well the last time we tried it. Let's go for it. I'm in. Call me Johnny Reb.

April 15, 2009 (A Unique Phenomenon)

Hordes of individuals largely self-identifying as evangelical Christians will be teabagging in public. Did anyone see the end of Perfume? Take a camera.

everyday will be bright as the sun

a problem with everything

Trying to put on my editor/critical reader's hat (it's a little tight and I don't remember it being this shade of green) I've been rummaging through old word documents of responses and critiques I composed at the UTSA workshops and in the group I named "Alligators" in my filing system, though I'm not sure there was ever a name properly applied, and one ought to have been. Regardless, I found a scrap that seems to be the only recorded sign in the excavated sedimentary layers towards possible cause of the near-total-annihilation of my thoroughness as a critical reader. I'm not sure how many metaphors I can mix into one paragraph, but I'm doing my best. My old responses were typed, at least a page or two in length, cited specific sections of work, represented attentive care with each sentence, and showed insight into the narratives they dealt with. Some event must have occurred around this period, because above this line, there are no discernible remnants. Nothing. Only silence. Here is the clue I have stumbled upon:


I am burning out. Going line by line by line on essentially powerful stories. I would like to say that I was moved. I would like to claim privilege. And only mention in passing, “this word seems wrong to me…this line is telling me what you’ve already shown.” I would prefer to sip Smoking Loon, and argue until 7:30 the use of the word “is.” And explore the philosophies of these divergent narrative approaches until 10:15 over dinner. No one really listens. When it isn’t necessary, why listen? But isn’t the workshop about the details? I do not care, honestly, and I prefer the argument to the grammar. Why should I have a problem with everything?

Have You Seen the Cherry Blossoms? (tohoku scratch vinyl spring)

Have you seen the cherry blossoms? Have you seen them? Did you see them this morning? There are some near your apartment, across the bridge behind the HOMAC.

Have you heard?

It is Spring and they are blossoming as we speak in a park not two blocks from here. Go and see. Go and see and take your camera. Here, look at mine. I stopped in my car this morning and took photographs. Here is one of a cherry blossom against a backdrop of sky and telephone wires. Wires that connect my telephone to yours, if you had a telephone.



If you had a telephone I would have called you this morning from the parking lot, and I would have described to you each one: this one is your sister when when she was thirteen; this one is your neighbor E; this one is for me, I can't tell you about it; it's too personal. You should come and see for yourself.

If you haven't seen the cherry blossoms, you should take a bus to the mountain, or we can ride in Megumi's car. She drives very dangerously, faster than I'd like and she doesn't watch the road. We will take her car and split the gas and see the cherry blossoms, lit at night by colored lights. There will be so many people there to see.

They are beautiful. Have you heard? Have you seen?