I’m addicted to Wolf Parade

I think to myself why I wouldn’t kill for you. Icy sparks of hazardous material flashing behind my eyes, creating blue out of gray. Nostalgia music. Technically I sing this song of desire for more than you. What I whimper I give to you, but I create it now to be shared. The touch of my hands outside is the same. Communication whispering in the dark behind me. It’s gone now, cut free to the world, down by freeway. Monogamous addiction like morphine breathing. I miss you when I’m waiting, so blistering pretty, dolled up for you. One day I’ll start taking pills. Darkest twist of medicine for humming blood and body and breath. Down, down until a holy day. It’s better than literacy, it’s Love. Down until the smallest echo of hello dies on your dry lips. Kiss me with them. Steal my soul you sucker boy. Etch your words into my flesh with skillful fingers. Create a museum to place our ordinary moments on display.
Visit. You’re close.

Take your hands off the keyboard and come to me.

this parade of lost souls

Yesterday I want you. Waking up early to a clear day. Cold gravel field and a borrowed black toque looking over the skyline like fall was newly invented. Camaraderie carrying cases of mortarshells and wooden triangles. A pyramid scheme delight getting closer to a climactic brawl of shimmering light. Took my pain and chilled it from me. The alcohol hate evaporating in no glare at all. Happy to be standing around, not knowing what to do. Assuming responsibility the way I like best. I spraypainted the wall behind the boxes by accident.

Home was my noon computer. Invent the wheel. Catching up skip=800 page worth it for the glory of planet information. Scintillating click click click. Umbrella showers of mesmeristic data flow. I’m sad my friends are far away. Tear me a new heart, a hole to put you all in. Keep this close.

It was dark when I left again. A deep breath of sodium lamps and the sound of the parade band coursing down the road towards our feet. A gush of far away celebration living without you. Broken song, a thud boom boom, whistle clear run across the street when the little white man says walk. This is the first time in a long time I wasn’t in the parade. Dancing in the front lines, waving to the girls with their fire hula-hoops. I can only assume that Lust, Greed, and Apathy were in their usual spots, harassing the crowd with almighty Wrath. It was strange not to be in costume. Not to drift in convenctive spirals around the harmony altars.

From above there was darkness. Creatures yelling and screaming and the murmur of a hundred throats talking. Watching my bedroom of starlit torches. At the fence twenty feet up, not in black but close, I flapped like a bat in my too-big trenchcoat. No one asked for my pass because I owned the place. I walk like I order you around. Asked to dance by the man I met in morning, I swirled in ballroom, the crowd still growing. Roman candles flaring above us, lighting our messy steps and his so strong stance. Cigarette breath, it’s different because I’m a girl. Rich night experience, like me, this language is detached. Performers curse, you can’t see the show. It’s weary, empty and grand.

I took my own insides out

My flare wouldn’t light, I sat and swore as I scratched it’s lightning eyes out. Light the skulls, with me in not my clothes. Long sleeve suddenly, red jumper heat.

I didn’t light a candlewick for Jon. I lit ten and twenty cascades of whistling light. One. Two. Three. Touch metal to metal, close circuit and DIE. Injection of the saddest joy – exploding into the air, the sky crying with it. Electric tears dripping to earth, I wanted to dance in it. Chemical fire for me, for him, for all of us. I miss you, hanged by your own hand behind your bedroom door. I loved you, you know. If you’d asked me to.

I set off the last volley.

I get back to the box over an hour after people were expected to begin arriving.

There is a porn room.

Luckily – not my room. There is a Tinkerbell making piercing orgasmic cries next to a woodland hippie/fairie and Alex from a Clockwork Orange. My type of people all over. The livingroom is mostly university students with a pilot and an accordian player for good measure. Robin is merely here.

Right now I’m drying off after cleaning off the sulpher and burnt powder from the explosives. Being flammable at a Hallowe’en party seems more foolish than even I am willing to risk. Not with My people here. *chuckles* Time to slip on the light up tutu and tie on the fishnets.

Trah-lah darlings, wish you were here.

Cthulu cookie

Cthulu cookie
Originally uploaded by Foxtongue.

So the Alastair laddie, he takes off for a bit, kindly running some errands for me. (Bastard also cleaned my bathtub, thereby slapping every single last joke about such in my face, but nevermind that). He returns with a paper bag with some pasteries in. Nothing terribly interesting. A muffin, some tasty crescent rolls. Then an hour or so later he creeps in on me, all unsuspecting of his nefarious catch of the day. A CTHULU COOKIE! A skellington of the Lovecraftian terror, no less.

We took a picture of his glorious prize, the likes of which I had never seen. It’s nefarious gingerbread scent wafting delectably upwards, he had mere moments to snap the evidence shot. I took off the elder gods leg, hamstringing him so that he may not escape my awesome bitey powers. There was great carnage. His head lays on my desk like the keepings of war.

my face burned with cold as I looked over my city this morning

This boy is a scrawny kitten creature of a man. Whipcord lean and alleycat sweet. I want to take him in to protect him from the cold. Take this saucer of milk darling, lap it up curled in my lap. Trust me lovely, I don’t want your skin to line my coat.


It’s the season for warm winds blowing rain into uplifted faces. Hide your eyes from the too kind sky. This morning there was a mad scurry dash of activity when the water began. We had to get the fireworks under the tarp as quickly as we could. When I had arrived earlier, I discovered that I was remembered from the course. Jay had told Elliot that he was bringing his friend in today, “She was in the course this week. She would have been the blond one.” “Blond and purple?” “Yeah, that’s Jhayne” “She was the one who took a nap during class”

the sound of keys in a clay cup

Sentences are running through my head like my love line. A broken jagged thing traveling across my hand, unreadable for it’s lack of coherency. Damned post modern relationships. Sweet mother terra needs to rewire my attraction board. Take the pegs out and re-arrange to fit my place and physical location into the program. It’s my fault somehow for falling for people, not flesh. I remember once I scraped off make-up with damp sand. It was course, gritty against my cheeks. I don’t know if I was dreaming. Where was I then? On my knees in a skirt, the surf in front of me? Not what I was looking at.

This is the important time for set-up. A few blocks away is the practical experience to wiring up explosives, the learning what I need to know. I can picture them perfectly, moving back and forth on the gravel field. Lisa Lee checking her set-up paper time and again. I’m jealous of their cold hands, their volunteer coffee in styrofoam cups. Instead I’m working with the kids, a small heap of ill-won candy my none too healthy breakfast.

I see you

I loathe need

Tonight at SinCity some idiot slapped my ass and I growled at him. I swept around faster than I could think about it and caught him by the throat. He was on his knees, unable to breathe in less than a second. Black PVC pants half a size too small hopefully scratching on the floor. Shamefully, I didn’t say I was sorry, but just tossed him away from me. Later he brought me a small bowl of candy without a word. Only handed it to me and nervously walked away.

For almost an hour I sat in a corner, feeling very much alone, sucking on horrid artificial flavoured chunks of mouth slicing sugar blocks. Before that I tried dancing, but the crowded dancefloor made it difficult. Drugged up dancing goths in rubber shorts are dangerous people to be close to. Too many spikes they aren’t paying attention to. It was a miserable night. Someone dropped a glass, smashing it not a metre from my bare feet. I left the house alone, I danced alone. My night a sad symphony of solo. I walked home kept company only by johns slowing down to pick me up and drive me home. Hardly cheerful. My thoughts are pathetic company when I want to cry to tear hearts out. Death incarnate inside my glass fingered hands.

The cherry was standing outside my apartment box unable to get inside. I stood for half an hour considering the different ways to climb my balcony in my fluffy black tutu and constricting trenchcoat. If it had started raining, I would have been off to wake up Marc or Jacques. Into the houses of my friends who’ve given me housekeys and slip into bed to let them wake at my cold feet and tensed fists. “Set the alarm for 8:30?” It would have been the easiest way. Borrow clothing and go straight to work in the morning, trailing my 12 yards of netting behind me on the field. Setting up mortars with my fishnets on.

Sometimes I’m glad I can’t hide my quirks, but more likely I’m glad I’m in no position where I need to. I don’t think I could. I have a secret now that is almost mine, yes, but I am still keeping it for them, not myself.

never any warning

It’s been a strange and bitter week. she flicks her eyes up to his and holds them. “would you like to spend the night at my place?” she knows exactly what she asks and how much this means.   her voice denies it, but his blood knows. I knew I was in serious trouble when an hour into my second pyro tech class, I was morbidly hallucinating. I put my hand to my head and took it away covered in brain-flesh and writhing maggots. The classroom seemed threatening. After the first break, I sat myself down in a softer chair, one against the wall. In the darkness, I fell asleep very briefly only to jerk awake from a dream of midget prostitutes stabbing me with syringes made of sharp enamel teeth with burned edges. I wish I was kidding, I wish that was overstatement. her hand vibrates with light, every molecule a different frequency. It’s painful, but not in any quantifiable way. she only knows that if she touches anything, it will dissolve into sound. in her mind, she finds her husband. I have a party planned this Saturday which I think is going to fail miserably. I’m being blown off by my friends for a fetish night. A fetish night that I would be on the guest list for if I hadn’t already had a party foisted upon me. The depression just grows, my lovelies. If I had known that there would be friends there Saturday, I would have decided upon that. Some certified relief from the nasties that populate such places. One day I will get used to being forgotten. Perhaps I’ll even manage to go an entire week without being stood up. blue eyes, blue eyes, he’s singing to himself, remembering what she looked like when he shuddered on top of her. what a night, he thinks, what a bloody good night. he turns, closing the handle of the door. next time I might even pay her, he thinks. I picked up my paycheques earlier today and brought them to the bank. The way my account is set up, I need to make my transaction with a teller rather than the machine if I am to pay my rent and as well get groceries. The line-up was entirely made up of men, and the one fourth down in line picked me out immediately as someone he approved of. Long silver hair and a gore-tex jacket. The older Used To Be A Hippie, still kind, still hitting on younger women who don’t mind all that much. He talked to me and I gave him candy from my pocket. “Trick or treat”. Our discussion eventually included another man, a taller fellow, with wire thin frames and shaved down hair. We talked about how today is the 75th anniversary of the Stock Market Crash, space-flight advances, and physics. Solar Flares wiping the magnetic memory of everything on Earth. The two of them waited for me afterward, standing by the door. I watched out of the corner of my eye as they made their introductions. Together they asked me out for coffee. Today I said no.

some warning would be appreciated

um – right – so hot on the heels of my stupidly insane week…

Apparently there is talk of a party at my place. Thank you kind folk for ASKING ME. *christ*

But, yes – I would like to see this happen.

Would the kind people who also are seemingly planning this arrange some details with me please?
As I’m the only one with a housekey – you sort of need my participation
Acquiescence included.

If this does go through, I want as many people as possible to show up.

So – alright. Keep in mind I’ve no net and am going to be at class from 9 – 4 the next two days.
I am going to be too busy this week to set it up. I require some cleaning help.

(a decent couch wouldn’t hurt either – or floor pillows – or bribery)