June 2011
30 posts
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May 2011
39 posts
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When I was fifteen
Started skipping breakfast. Started sleeping naked. Started sleeping in the shower. Started humming Jazz and saving sounds. Stared sneaking sips from the cabinet above the refrigerator. Started thinking about what Ali Johnson wears under he basketball shorts. Stopped doing puzzles and started making them. Stopped sleeping and started stiffening.
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What a Woman by Mary Ruefle
If someone asked me to remember my first menses—for what woman can forget it?—I would remember the afternoon in the dressing room off of the ballet studio, where I was one of twelve disciples in pink and black who had just been whipped into a frenzy in front of a mirror by a Russian voice, and the low bench where I sat undoing my toe shoes, unwinding their long ribbons from around my ankles,...
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Mountains in Ecuador
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Watchzyro75:
Forty-nine days, kids.
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“When someone you love dies, and you’re not expecting it, you don’t lose her all...”
– A PRAYER FOR OWEN MEANY BY JOHN IRVING
Parent Keep Child's Gender a Secret →
liveoutsidethelines:
I think this is pretty cool, particularly the mom’s last quote at the end of the article. :)
“He showed the words “chocolate cake” to a group of Americans and recorded their...”
– Michael Pollan (Omnivores Dilemma)
How Mushrooms Clean Up Pollution, Kill Pests and... →
sustainable-sam:
Mushrooms to save the world.
Knew it.
Clouds Gathering by Charles Simic
It seemed the kind of life we wanted. Wild strawberries and cream in the morning. Sunlight in every room. The two of us walking by the sea naked. Some evenings, however, we found ourselves Unsure of what comes next. Like tragic actors in a theater on fire, With birds circling over our heads, The dark pines strangely still, Each rock we stepped on bloodied by the sunset. We were back on our...
Sweet Baby James - by James Taylor and Carole King
She had some pockets
based off of She Had Some Horses by Joy Harjo
She had pockets with lint linings. She had pockets too small for her hands. She had pockets made of cantaloupe rinds and marbles. She had pockets that wished they could carry more, carry less. She had pockets who were dirty. She had pockets that hid in sock drawers, pockets that hid in the backs of books, small boxes and a cracked vase. She had...
smelling of mud
Gonna fall, rolling down the window behind my ribs where my bones look like branches and my muscles more like wet hammocks sagging with rain water.
4:09 AM at Fourth Coast
There are seven people here, only one person is asleep, face pressed down into their closed textbook. Double shot cappuccino, two coffee refills and an espresso muffin in 3 hours. Hey seventh week.
Variations on Rolling In the Deep by Adele
Make a home down there where every open door has a story to be told. The scar of your tears are gold and I’m turning my sorrow into a fire in my heart. They keep me out of the dark because they think I’m going to fall. Inside of your hands there’s a bare ship heading into the depths of your despair.
“A little Madness in the Spring
Is wholesome even for the King.”
– Emily Dickinson 