they pulled my hair at charm school.
they
stole my guestbook during
rolecall.
the law of similars and aviaries/shift key + February 03. 05 = 2:02 a.m.
+ a week of reading the same story (the swimmer by john cheever) and listening to the same song (byyrside cocorosie) and riding the same train (g train) to the same section of brooklyn (williamsburg) and coming home to the same couch (yellow) to the same bar (sample) to the same theories (it's the low light?). but tonight, repetition broken by ridiculously long Q train ride to kings highway. you try crossing the river at dusk--above ground--with all of the streets lined up in perfect rows. traffic lights & signs for the brooklyn bridge & signs in chinese & lights on in lofts. crowded subway car. the chinese woman with the faux vuitton purse and bag of carrots. the man with the grubby fingernails playing chess on his palm pilot. the two school girls falling asleep with oversized backpacks in their laps. the woman reading a romance novel with the words "venus de milo"in the title.
and something shifts. arrive in jewish/russian neigborhood in flatbush. stay on ave p with its squat houses and traffic medians and men murmuring dirty things from their stoops. later, sit at pacifico w/b and listen to loud 25yr old in a green shirt try to figure out if it's her job or her girlfriend that is giving her panic attacks at 3 a.m. we try to pay attention to our water glasses and salmon while her friend adamantly argues that it is the girlfriend. it's two. play: evergreen the fiery furnaces| to be alone with you sufjan stevens| it's them!!! themselves|us & sailors regina spektor| cathy horyn on spring haute couture 2005
i'm not tired...
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