Sunday, January 27, 2008


gary, indiana

poetic synaesthesia

colorless green ideas sleep furiously

Monday, January 21, 2008


I bought this notebook in a Greyhound station in Spokane Washington. joe and i are traveling cross country on the bus and we left Portland this morning. I feel good and bland and scared and happy. Fearful of my own brain and everything it may or may not contain. But moving is cathartic and i suppose it's time to start thinking again. Portland felt like a test. Stayed in a 24 hour coffee shop called the pharmacy near a park called Couch. Had dinner with a big tittied blond hip-hop business woman with a cross in her house the size of joe's suitcase, and another the size of a bike. went to a lame emo show at a posh bar. walked over a bridge, saw homeless people and cried. but that may have been the fight. maybe not. slept in the coffee shop. joe woke me at six. got six doughnuts at a place that will marry you. wondered if holy matrimony flavored with sacharine and starch tastes better in the end. they had vegan ones too. now, on a bus to moscow idaho by way of washington. woman's been yelling at her blond son behind me for the last forty or so minutes. she has: short shorts, rolls hanging over, gray skin. it's green here, so green. i want to put everything in my pocket. colors fade.

words. words. words

Sunday, January 20, 2008


Her father asked her what she wanted for her birthday. She looked at the driver and briefly wanted to be the kind of woman who could have asked him pornographic questions, right there in the elevator, within seconds of their first meeting; who could have talked dirty to this beautiful man, knowing that he would not have understood a word, that he would've smiled an employee's assenting smile without knowing what he was agreeing to. Did he take it in the ass? She wanted to see his smile. She didn't know what she wanted. She wanted to make documentary films.

Friday, January 18, 2008

I am Frank Zappa's illegitamate second cousin, once removed

No lie-

My mother's first husband was Frank Zappa's cousin. They married in a Catholic church during the summer of 1973, the year she turned nineteen. Five months later, Eddy Colimore became a Jehovah's Witness in a ceremony not much different than the one that made them man and wife. Death do us part, no love and cherish. The marriage was promptly annulled.

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

The Rothko Chapel

The Rothko Chapel in Houston, TX was commissioned by the Menil family in 1964, and erected seven years later, in 1971. The artist committed suicide in 1970, directly before its completion. The only light in the room comes from a small hole at the top of the dome shaped ceiling- a veritable sensory deprivation tank.

Sunday, January 13, 2008

Sistas R Doin it Right

M: i'm starting a blog
G: oh yeah??
M: yeah
G: we should start a blog together meg
M: i think it will be a good way to kill event/thoughts that dont matter
i'm down with a shared blog
G: excellent
M: how do we do it
G: it will be incentive to post
we need a name
M: yes we do
G: like aids4lyfe/sistas are doin it right
M: ha
G: something to that effect
M: i like that.
my idea for my blog was to write out things i wanted to die soo aids4lyfe would fit
G: things you wanted to di?
M: like thoughts and events that mean nothing but take up space in my head
like for instance i think fbook is a great way to kill these things
as soon as theyre on there, theyre dead
i'm hoping a blog will have the same effect
G: what are you trying to make room for?
M: new things to kill i suppose
or maybe clarity
maybe i'll get some clarity
G: clarity is good
M: yes i would like it
Sent at 6:58 PM on Sunday
there ya go cossface