if everyday were today

happiness machine.

oil.

Hi my little friends. What a wonderful last night we had.

It was hard to get here though. Port authority was really rough.

I was very sensitive.

I wonder if I would have reacted the same way in a different state of mind? I kind of hope to always be as aware of the really dark feeling it gave me because it truly IS one of the worst places in the world. Seeing my sister, my family my home, my bed, my CAT at the end of it all was probably better than it has ever been.

I have been learning how to meditate. It is going to be my summer-time objective. That and reading (which I have been doing much of) Paired with journaling (ever morning) equals: little to no stress, little to no boredom, little to no anxiety. Although I MISS you all so much.



SISTERS



I have been reading a lot about the oil spill recently. I wasn't really allowing myself to before now because it upset me too much. Ignorance is bliss except for when you are consciously choosing to be that way, in which case you are ( I am) just being childish. Anyways, it is sort of the worst thing ever and I am trying to figure out a way to help. OUR OCEAN.

forecasting.

the sky cracked and spilled more children from
the places where unborn lightening lived
they came down to us nose to eye and
as they lifted their shirts to false eyes

it liquified our organs,
and turned them to mineral water

each crooked mouth
of the next unnamed generation
begged to know the answer
to the same question

a mouth speaks into the radio and tells us
wait and sit on your hands
until your shadows become confusing
while the four false suns are setting

shadow lead them all the way down
the wrong side of the fork
to the wrong side of the morning.

you will find my house there
in the wrong side of night
as the sky cradles and booms life

I feel nothing. clouds disperse
and insides appear, again.
I feel nothing. As the little one bites my hand
I feel nothing.

asked for it

Skivvy



One

When it is cold, like real cold,
I turn my body into itself––inside itself. A hunchback.
My shell is a real case of living and breathing.
Compensate by disappearing.


Two

It makes my whole body itch
then crack. Gold Bond won't keep me sealed.
Doc says it's all about hydration But I know better-
my soul's trying to leave me behind.
Escape through dying skin, my winter.


Three

I've said it before, and I'll say it again
"This time is the last time, and the last time wont be like this time."
And I mean it, have meant it.
Stay here as long as I say.


Four

People at work looked at me
with eyebrows raised to the ceiling
when I came into the office
covered in tin foil.
I will wrap
my dying hands
once more.