Lines from 2003

Beginings of two poems:

I’d Stand With my Hip Out Trying to be Sexy, When I Was a Girl.

a teenage ballerina with a joint in a tutu. small pebbles in a soap dish. raspberry pie. spinning circles in the kitchen. fireworks like poprocks burst in the sky while the last drips of my blood dry. in my dream we’re sharing blackberries. sunbeam, moonbeam, marmalade. butter on burns. tea and toast. watermelon toenails. a thin film.

did she have freckles between her breasts? fingernails stained carrot? lollipop colored clothes? and the strawberry moon has already passed.

today

my mind's all foggy and tired and sad and gray. and a sharp pain near my left temple throbbing with each small movement. and i have to go deal with a four year old in 6 minutes...and should i have rubber stamps made for the chapbooks? and how can we make paper boats? and really fancy paper planes? and must make may baskets. and i can only take just so much with the legos. and like a child i get mad when he knocks down the things i build just cause he knows it's not nice. and why does he want to get under my skin? and why do i care? and where is my patience and bodhicitta these days? and my pants are still too tight.

Baltimore

Baltimore, what I really want to know is who sorts through the recyclables? These days we can put plastic and paper out together--even mixed (gasp)--it seems. But really, who sorts through this stuff? When I think about this, all I can remember is that Simpsons episode where Homer is running for mayor and they sing that song about who can do all the dirty work (to the tune of the candy man) with the refrain of "the garbage man can..." And so anyway, all I can hear in my head when I wonder about this is, "Who can sort my recyclables?" (same candy man tune...) I guess if you've never seen that episode, none of this really makes sense, and definitely isn't funny. But if you have....

More...

The bookmaking was made much nicer thanks to

-Sigur Ros/Taak

-Radiohead/Kid A

-Sufjan Stevens/The Avalanche

-Tunng/Bricks

-Azure Ray/Burn and Shiver

-Sigur Ros/Untitled

Success!

I'm happy to report that after a day of nasty trial and error--today's bookmaking was smooth sailing! I didn't freak out even once! All the covers are done--yay!

1 Down--11 To Go

So last night I made the first book. I was really excited. After I glued the pages in I set it under a huge stack of books. All night I felt like it was Christmas Eve--I was so excited for the morning when the allotted 12 hrs drying time would have passed and I could look at the book. This morning I looked, and boy does expectation suck. I was so disappointed with how it came out!!! I am horrible at making things exact and perfectly aligned...I'm wishing myself better luck today.....

Now..........

cramps and class till 11--talk of, "We can see Jenn had some trouble again..." and "it didn't pop all that well"--it's like being on american idol. 2 days ago sitting in bliss on a sandy beach by a probably man-made pond. the sunshine and digging and now the sweetest buttery cookbook--a taste of country coooking--planning in my head what i'll feed my parents when they're here. an itchy nose. and watching ice cubes melt. and today I begin the book making!!!!!!!!!!

15 Days!!!!!!!!!!!

Book Making!

I finally have all (well, almost all) my paper and am so excited to start making my books!

Curtains of Marigolds

There’s lights on and there’s mouse droppings all over the floor. And the only reassurances in four and a half months. And what shall I write? Empty of poems--in a haze of flowers and sneezes and runny nose: lawn mowers and a small plastic pool filled with water and finally an address. And a card bought so long ago. And it never ends. And I don’t want capitals. Picnics and showers and sun and sunscreen. Fungus on a face. White spots and freckles. And pee in a pool. And she didn’t mind he got wet. And construction and pink and flowers and flowers. And seth about to be in a hospital, paid for fourteen days and can’t know the time, the day. And his presentations. And he said he can’t hear the messages. And always in the shower. And not sure what supposed to do. And class was cancelled. Is he so tired? And the nose so itchy. And it tastes like I’ve been licking envelopes. And still, why can’t I write him? And wants me to tell something. Exacerbated. Persisted. A pressing. Flying elephants. And a lesbian. Fast talking and wet hair.