Thursday, May 26, 2011


Waking up, suddenly I'm seized by an overwhelm of emotion, thinking about the piece I wrote for make/shift about Chrissie Contagious and crying a little about the paths we've taken to search for connection and hope and intimacy and the way these paths so often lead to loss, including my loss of Chrissie Contagious and how maybe it seemed, not so long before her death, that she was pulling something together, I'm not sure what exactly, but something, and then.

I don't notice that my jaw hurts until I start eating these blueberries, maybe the right number of blueberries this time because they don't cause any bloating, that's a good sign. But my jaw hurts, must've been clenching it last night. It's nice getting up in the morning, because then I get to see the clouds more, feel the cool air, even when I can tell it's going to be hot today, or at least that's how it seems.

Those cute finches are eating the succulents I planted right in front of my apartment, the ones I pulled out of the gravel on the side of the road, and then fucked up my hands planting in the dark. Because I got carried away – I took too many at once, my sister was driving the getaway car. The ones with the magenta flowers, every day I wake up and pieces are pulled out of the dirt, drying to brown in the sun. At first I thought it was the wind, or because I didn't water them enough, or maybe I planted them in the wrong direction, but now, staring through the blinds I catch those finches, and I understand how something so cute can suddenly become a pest, I mean I love watching those plants every day, studying their progress. I want to watch this whole little patch of dirt in front of my patio become nothing but succulents, so that you don't even see the dirt, but how can the succulents grow enough with all these finches feasting?

Suddenly I wonder if it's the new mulch that's drawing the finches over, there's bat shit in that mulch and maybe the finches like the taste of shit. Why did I get mulch with bat shit in it anyway? All it said was cotton burrs, and that sounds innocuous enough. For some reason I decide that if I take some dirt from the other side, and place it on top of the wounded succulents, the finches won't peck away, I do like listening to the finches chirping all the time but can't they stay up in the trees? No, I like watching them down on the ground too, but not when they’re pecking away at my garden. So I take off my socks, walk through the gravel of the driveway to get some dirt from the other side, throw it onto those succulents in pieces and I'm not sure that it will do anything at all, but anyway it's kind of fun.

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