TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER
an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
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09.29.03, monday evening
Labor art at the California Historical Society; home-making; Knob Creek, on the rocks; inopportunely magical brownies; Sufi poetry; Victor B. Scheffer's The Year of the Whale; learning to keep a straight face when taking orders; becoming vegetarian; waiting anxiously for blood clots to collect in my toilet bowl; avoiding sin and syntax and feelin' kinda restless; dead sparrows; not returning messages; spending Mondays like weekends and vice versa; swinging from sadness to sadness dangling from the canopy of my jungle-gym universe 'cuz Niva lives in Jerusalem and Mel lives in Santa Barbara (regardless of how many or how few the miles between them and me, I only know that you and you are not here with me); turretted factories rising at the edge of Oakland like rusting Emerald Cities; a blue cloth-covered boat squeaking as it, bobbing, rubs against a narrow dock under the bluest sky.