Tuesday, April 17, 2012


untitled by pinkyhonor

i think of my days as open mouths that have to be fed each day.


i sense her looking at me every so often.__ q, that chick keeps looking your way. it's true. i know i respond.
__i excuse myself and go mingle.
it's blank. time.
__what i remember is how small her waist is in my hands when we speak (just speak). i speak too softly and she leans in too close to hear me. i breathe her in. deliberately. i do it obviously and we lock eyes for a moment. __she breaks off first. looks back at the bar where that chick keeps looking your way.

i guess it's starting again.

seems to happen in the winter.


on the train i watch a young couple. you dickhead! she says in a squeal and gives him a delicious smooch. i smile. briefcase on my lap. umbrella on top of that. hands joined in a neat clamped cluster on top of that.


every night at about seven i knock on her door.
judge, i'm thinking of heading out - is there anything i can do for you before i leave? i say. she gives me a concerned look, oh - you shouldn't be here still. of course, go home, i'll see you tomorrow. same every night. not to worry judge, just some things to finish up. good evening then. same every night.

(empty, open, eyeless, identical mouths.
such a hunger these days have.


i get a text:
 ___i had a dream. you were living with your mother because you were a
___ single parent to your illegitimate child.

i'm terrified. i can't speak. i'm a wreck for the rest of the night.


next year i'll move out alone i've decided. it's dangerous , living alone isn't usually ideal for me. better to have someone nearby. good to force me into smiling and chatting. otherwise i can't differentiate myself from the furniture and half the time i can't remember if i'm me or a dream of myself or a memory of myself that's gotten misplaced or if i'm just a reverie and the real me will be waiting somewhere when i snap out of it. maybe i'll get a place with more space and grab a friend to live in it with me. separate chambers. something like that.

perhaps having my books and frames nearby will help me. i like having them. it makes me feel like mar and monz and jinab are in the room with me. that's always a good thing.


"q u o k ?"

my mother's inadvertently witty text amuses me no end.

she calls three minutes later and spends the next 27 telling me how wonderful the voice is and tries to encourage me to watch it. and to eat more diverse foods and especially lots of olive oil - drink it if you have to. (yes mama).

"you ok?"
"yes yes, of course."
"i was worried about you, yesterday you didn't sound very good."
"good days and bad days mom" <-- she's familiar with this, this is my go-to line i say this one a lot.


"q try and sleep okay? don't sit around for hours on your laptop."
"yes naDile(roomate1)"
"sleep. ___right?"
"yes, sleep. of course of course."
"okay. good night."
"good night elDian"

(that was 4 hours ago)


Capone: said...

i have determined a method to distill echoes into an elixir that sweetens tea (with a bitter note - it is inescapable)... on your next visit we will drink it in abundance and laugh like children.

Anonymous said...

Lúppulagio (<--- except the o is actually that d that the Icelandic use that's pronounced not quite a d, but not quite a t, which is really delicious and which iPhone keyboards don't have.) - Sigur Rós.
Also, Kolnidur ((<--- the d being that d again) - Jónsi
= necessary listening for any of ~those~ moods.

Anonymous said...

Oh wait. Lúppulagið and Kolniður.