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TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER

an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
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05.24.04, monday night

The earth shook infinitesimally a few minutes ago. Jimmy did not wake. Being wobbled while I read letters in memory of Gloria Anzaldua. Remembered Barbara Christian. Thought about Sri and Dipti, their adoration of June Jordan. Manu Chao singing about being lost in the 21st century. The passing mention of a particularly vocal red-haired protestor in an East Bay Express article last week called "Berkeley Intifada," which despicably implied that anti-Zionist activism is anti-semitic, the supposed actions of confused, irrational students led astray by militant Islam's infiltration of academia. I speculated on the identity of that red-head, remembering a smart, fierce, politically engaged young woman who was my friend for years until I made the mistake of living with her; who we were at a short, friendly distance could not co-exist in close proximity. In these terrible times, her company is profoundly missed.




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