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belong to the living: Note in Winter
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Belong to the living. Wednesday, April 06, 2011. Last night at the National Gallery,. I realised you were unremarkable. Is this possible, is that fair,. To love a boy for everything he is not,. In a city that promises to be so much that it so quickly. Falls short of everything, a kind of relief from hope,. From those god-damned blasted pulling dreams. Im really enjoying your poetry, especially the bittersweet ones :). 08 April, 2011. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Fisherman in a suit.
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belong to the living: February 2011
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Belong to the living. Saturday, February 12, 2011. Love is not so much a matter of romance as it is a matter of anxious concern for the wellbeing of one’s companion.". Links to this post. Thursday, February 10, 2011. By the Bard, but of course. Let me not to the marriage of true minds. Admit impediments. Love is not love. Which alters when it alteration finds,. Or bends with the remover to remove:. It is an ever-fixed mark. That looks on tempests and is never shaken;. If this be error and upon me proved,.
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belong to the living: April 2011
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Belong to the living. Monday, April 11, 2011. What is it I’m fishing for. If not difference. What is there. But the hope that this lack of fire,. These safe words will lead us. To what we cannot yet expect,. But expect to find. Are we on the same side of the question,. Or are you tracing a common state. Meant for someone else you hope is watching,. Who is recording this like a home video. For no-one but the future you think is possible,. The one I do not see. The moon tonight is an earring. But say here,.
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belong to the living: November 2010
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Belong to the living. Tuesday, November 30, 2010. When I was younger, Father and I will decide to go out on weekends or weeknights on impulse, often to the rental bookshop in Thomson Plaza or to the zoo. Or else to Macdonalds to feed the family's fries-addiction. These times, I would jump up and say "Okay wait for me I go change! As Sister and I got older, we took longer and longer to get dressed, and Father would knock on our locked door and ask "Are you done? Not yet we're changing! Links to this post.
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belong to the living: October 2011
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Belong to the living. Wednesday, October 26, 2011. This Christmas, I'm going to travel across America by train- Pittsburgh to Chicago. 3 days, 2 nights, 68 hours. Oh yeah. Links to this post. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom).
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belong to the living: December 2010
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Belong to the living. Tuesday, December 21, 2010. Friend: Youth is wasted on the young. Greenberg: No, I'd go further than that. Life is wasted on. people. Links to this post. Friday, December 10, 2010. The last of the Melburnians. On the train to Sydney, pre-departure, two women: one in her 30s, another in her 50s. 30: What time does it leave? I'd better head off now. I need the toilet. 50: Alright. Have you got any money on you? 30: No, but why would I need any? I'm just going to the toilet and back.
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belong to the living: rute
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Belong to the living. Saturday, July 09, 2011. I thought I should write this down in case I forgot I ever had anything to say, or ever had the feeling that some thoughts belonged to me. By the childcare centre, there is a new house; I watched as it was built from scratch. There are vines clinging to its walls now. Has this house been here that long, and how long does it take for vines to grow attached? The house looks like it smells of fresh paint. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom).
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belong to the living: October 2010
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Belong to the living. Thursday, October 21, 2010. Why the GRE is Asinine. Braggadocio: N. boasting. He was disliked because his manner was always full of braggadocio. Bovine. ADJ. cowlike. placid and dull. Nothing excites Esther; even when she won the state lottery, she still preserved her air of bovine. Aver V. assert confidently or declare; as used in law, state formally as a fact. The self-proclaimed psychic averred. Is the word antediluvian! Ablution. N. washing. His daily ablutions. Last week I made...
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belong to the living: August 2011
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Belong to the living. Tuesday, August 16, 2011. A man called Dad walks by. Then another one does. Dad, you say. And he turns, forever turning, forever. Being called. Dad, he turns, and looks. At you, bewildered, his face a moving. Wreck of skin, a gravity-bound question. Mark, a fruit ripped in two, an animal. That can't escape the field. Links to this post. Friday, August 05, 2011. 8212; Diane Arbus. Links to this post. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). Everybody has that thing where they need to look .
