My credit rating
Is almost enough to keep
Me counting syllables.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Who Really Writes Like This Anyway?
Dude. What does this mean? It showed up in my e-mail from someone named Tu Xiao Fang, whom I have reason to believe I at some point knew:
〈雅典集會場中的帝國建築與修辭〉見麻省理工學院論文
V.
〈雅典集會場中的帝國建築與修辭〉見麻省理工學院論文
V.
Prayer
God of Jacob!
I know you can hear me!
Odysseus!
I know you cheated death
and have crossed my path.
I need you now!
You see, I am dying.
I am not smart enough
to do my work with all
these distractions
and encumbrances.
I need some of what you got.
Some of that wrestling juju.
Some of that mendacious charm.
Some of that fancy-footed
ability to make a deal
while the sink's full of dishes
and the sun is shining
and the kids're failing math.
Some of that cock-sure strut,
like wearing yellow without
my pink skin crawling with shame.
God! Last with me this work day!
Odysseus! C'mon, brother!
I really need you! I shit you not!
I can't bend this bow! I can't
get past the one-eyed merciless
sentry of government! I can't
get my shit together! I really
want to DO something!
If you two could just take
a break from whatever God-like
administration or avventura or
whatever you're doing and
help me get the dishes done,
or rain fire on my enemies,
or go to bat for me at the I.R.
fucking S. I would be able
to get something meaningful
done before I die.
Please!
Amen.
Love, Van. You know my number,
or how to find it.
I know you can hear me!
Odysseus!
I know you cheated death
and have crossed my path.
I need you now!
You see, I am dying.
I am not smart enough
to do my work with all
these distractions
and encumbrances.
I need some of what you got.
Some of that wrestling juju.
Some of that mendacious charm.
Some of that fancy-footed
ability to make a deal
while the sink's full of dishes
and the sun is shining
and the kids're failing math.
Some of that cock-sure strut,
like wearing yellow without
my pink skin crawling with shame.
God! Last with me this work day!
Odysseus! C'mon, brother!
I really need you! I shit you not!
I can't bend this bow! I can't
get past the one-eyed merciless
sentry of government! I can't
get my shit together! I really
want to DO something!
If you two could just take
a break from whatever God-like
administration or avventura or
whatever you're doing and
help me get the dishes done,
or rain fire on my enemies,
or go to bat for me at the I.R.
fucking S. I would be able
to get something meaningful
done before I die.
Please!
Amen.
Love, Van. You know my number,
or how to find it.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
A Coupla/three Quick Observations from this Dark Corner of the American Experiment
For purposes of undermining the current madness, corporations should be regarded as functionally a branch of government.
Self-love is completely beyond me; I assume I am just about average in this way. Maybe attentive self-care can stand in. (I'm partly thinking of really cool cowboy boots, here.)
Most people work backwards from basic stories to some notion of which facts are relevant. Someone should start a website called Facts Without Conclusions. It would make available various sorts of schemes for correlating the governments/corporations/policies that control a place and the circumstances that prevail there: how well people are living and who's responsible. This may be incredibly naive. But you know.
There is some pounding in my synapses like the sturdy framing of a good house or the flicking-to-life of the bic lighter of a star. I think love may have connected me to the universe in some small way.
Work opens onto work.
Friendship is really really good.
Self-love is completely beyond me; I assume I am just about average in this way. Maybe attentive self-care can stand in. (I'm partly thinking of really cool cowboy boots, here.)
Most people work backwards from basic stories to some notion of which facts are relevant. Someone should start a website called Facts Without Conclusions. It would make available various sorts of schemes for correlating the governments/corporations/policies that control a place and the circumstances that prevail there: how well people are living and who's responsible. This may be incredibly naive. But you know.
There is some pounding in my synapses like the sturdy framing of a good house or the flicking-to-life of the bic lighter of a star. I think love may have connected me to the universe in some small way.
Work opens onto work.
Friendship is really really good.
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