october mEp 2011
my E l e c t r o n i
6:27: am four days, four.
7:06: am in the
there's a snake on a train; and a
pony in a hat; there's a christmasy scene, flowers, all
halloween strewn about, and a kid on a spider, a fish and a
bowl and a pumpkin beside her.
there's a bucket of 'billes' (marbles), the gazette and the
a dollar store ball, rubber boots, and some toast.
no christmas lights work, burnt out in the rain,
through the sheers, a red blind, yes, red again.
a child and tv, the world where she wakes,
a woman, that's me,
7:41: am what october
lucky pauline, is all i can say
more java please on a sunday morning in montreal
stiff back; arch poots;
where are your mEpwords
well, thanks to the man in 5A anyways.
5:57 am my
pauline gets to say
lucky her, heart and mind
"when the bee stings" your neck; in a restaurant;
and shouting at it, heads turn
what are "your favorite things", poots?
i want my breasts back, how silly is that, and not only
hanging on the wall
are we all just a gradient of selfish
are we islands, or are we as one
can we dream without our thoughts; or think without our
visiting Russians, French, and Chinese
no Japanese, no Swiss,
we will model and mend PCIDSS
model and mend
no coding required
there's a place
If you can dream - and not make
dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
thwarted mepmoments, how can i think
it's empty, over the hedge, now seven looms
and sleeping still,
there's nothing i can say here.
"love that is not madness is not love"
Pedro Calderon de la Barca
i have a mep story. one day i hope i can put it online.
this morning, in the park, i wrote
my mEp story. one day i hope i can put it online.
i have always admired those online diarists who were able to
admit to the entire world, what they were really thinking
and or feeling.
unfortunately, my real thoughts, my real feelings, have
always been too marginal for someone on the outside, lives a
more than middle of the road existence.
always expect the unexpected
- lmpo high school yearbook 1982
alcohol diaries entry number II
"four bottles of wine?" exclaims she.
what is your point, i wish i knew, without modifying your
yes, perhaps, distorted, muddle thoughts, lack of clarity,
wakes poots, at seven am
the everyday housewife;
how much mEpping, does make a body.
silence - sore teeth -
a weekend of sun
and more beauty.
26 am... the alcohol diaries.
in my dreams, the hamster escaped.
in my life, i layed my weary head at 8:37
and opened my eyes at 6:23...
opened them to certain clarity, to today, and tomorrow.
and although i didn't know what day of the week it was,
as clearly as i walked down the stairs on sunday,
my deflated physical self knew something absolutely, once
and, coining the phrase alcohol diaries,
began my journey back to California.
October 3, 2011
again, squeaky noises from a tiny creature, fill the house
in the night
doesn't take much, does it.
scant sleep, skansen,
no chewing today.
words, how much rests on them, when so much rests on them...
and when at a loss for them, the most meaningful sentiments
winter will come, this year.
October 2, 2011
when i woke up this morning,
it was sunday
that was all