Saturday, June 19, 2021

personal essay, week 2

Frog prince twins sipping gin and snorting Torchy's. Mind meld magic in the grass outside the party. Sick so special man yr movie's really arty.

 We blew by SXSW. Full contrarian status, I refused the widely used abbreviation, "south-by," and ran around shouting for weeks,* "We're going to southbee! southbee!" Big business tech tycoon nightmare carnival took over the whole town. When I lived in Austin, I hated the whole racket -- the traffic, the tourists, the lines, the logos, the litter, the excess. Well of course I still hate it, so even though I was ecstatic that we had been invited, I was determined to fully embody anti-SXSW values whenever possible. I stayed up late making homemade paper business cards. I insisted our crew get matching jean jackets, the Ghost Fleet. 

 We trash talk, we lip lock, we jaywalk for miles. We dumpster, we long fur, we sweet meat and smiles.

 You know, of course, it turned out to be a lot of milling around, as is the case with so many conventions. We ate cole slaw sandwiches inside a massive, empty sound stage while the adults had barbecue. We became festival friends with a woman whose movie, in the “Midnights” category, was about a female necrophile. Before the premiere, we visited the new GOAT YOGA studio in same dang strip mall as the movie theatre. You can't make this shit up.** 

 While the world hurdled ever onward into the lie of neverending capitalist death show, I found myself surrounded by my best friends, my very favorite people, love bugs I've known for decades and buddies I’ve known only briefly, together, sharing visions, feeding on each other's passion, running from the juggernaut and WINNING. Day drunk, sun spilling in, what a ride. Somehow my favorite people, my best loves, all in one place at the same time. The overwhelm - the too muchness of it - the bigness of us made small by the drone. 

Thursday, June 10, 2021

trascribed voice memos from my dog walks

6/7/2021, 1:51pm 

sidewalk squat to get a picture of a gutter egg

two doors down real live robin puddle sputtering full robin

and here’s these sticks

the sticks of men

there’s a dead bird

a dead bird in the yard of hte sticks of men , oh god

he had a lawn and it killed them all

the dogs dog dogs dogs with some paws ouch oh jesus

i’m not ever gonna get used to this - what if i - okay

i don’t know if they can still here me

these dogs these dogs noses and paws

tj’s tryin to wiggle away fey

they never liekd it how i rhymed

Thursday, June 03, 2021

personal essay class - week one quick write

cramps grumpy crumpet. blaring bleating trumpet. sticky fickle carpet. yr never gonna stop it.

when t​he​ bell rings in there, ​swings in there, sings despair, try not to care but hey​ you​ over there,
you can't escape the ding ding ding ding crushing twisting cramping.

how about that now, how about you talk to her. what did she ever do to you!

like conjuring my inner critic, i will pluck you, uterus, out and set you up right here on the futon.
it's real hard to get them out.​

the bleeding never bothered me.
​you know i can't abide a lie!
middle school was murder, seats stained, jeans ruined, cruel laughter in the corners.

​this is so boring, i'm bored of myself.
are you writing or reading or even thinking? which one are you doing! pick forgodssake!
you got self conscious and that's okay. are you feeling too vulnerable today?
do we need to go in another direction?

​i didn't mean to pick on you.​ it is just the body of me that is talking right now, so it only made sense.
a sweet bright drop-

you can't stop the squiggles. little worm in there, nast. a lonely sequin on the doormat.
every day i nearly die, and so do you, and so do you.

yr world has really shrunk, huh. all there is, curled and contained. the bedroom. the kitchen.
the walls. the ceiling. the face of yr "honey."
​(​in tarot, the ​figure of the World​ is intersex - non-binary - in between - across - trans​)​
but what about the ant on my pants?
and waht about these fucking cramps?
if i have a body (and so far, i do) will nothing make it quiet?

the World isn't in there. it never was and never will be. the World is too vast and vibrant to be just this. the oven is not the cake. mammals think we are so brave.

don't worry, we're all still god, and so are you, and so are you. i am the white hot center of a web of love, and so are you, and so are you.

the center of me tunes its frequency to the center of Things. it's cool to vibe in, but don't linger. you can't! catch hold of the knot that brought you here and climb back toward it, back to bones and blood and oh, cramps. sing yr thanks to every moon + every womb but bless the ​earthworm, the slippershell​, anemone​. all things god and so are you and so are you​: a sweet bright drop.​