because an orange glow landscape is still worth stopping for

I woke with a lightning flash of pain. A large truck went by, thundering, and I wondered half-asleep if it were Andrew at the wheel. I made the mistake of trying to stretch out. Bad bad move. I have black bruises on my ankles. Never a good sign. I suppose I must resign myself to hobbling aournd a bit today. No grace for this little girl, not on the agility end.  I woke content though.
      Fed wtih answers and understanding, I am content.
My brains belly needing no quest, no searching for things I don’t know. Not yet.

e.e. cummings – dying is fine)but Death

dying is fine)but Death

?o
baby
i

wouldn’t like

Death if Death
were
good:for

when(instead of stopping to think)you

begin to feel of it,dying
‘s miraculous
why?be

cause dying is

perfectly natural;perfectly
putting
it mildly lively(but

Death

is strictly
scientific
& artificial &

evil & legal)

we thank thee
god
almighty for dying
(forgive us,o life!the sin of Death

the sound of water and the dark curl of your hair

I swept away the honey coating of skin tonight to uncover pain. Sweet
abandoning myself to walking. One step after another, walking, caught
in eachother. Words, phrases. I’m changing my reflection to something a
little more knowing. We argue, but agree while we’re at it. Send me
away and I’ll only want to know you more. Upside down and inside in. I
think it’s going away.

Hollowed of everything but the inablilty to take another step, I only
started falling at Grandview Park.. Too far, and though no scrapes to
show, I know I will have bruises. Down the Drive, then up it, and
halfway back again. The film was lovely, wonderful. Vignettes collected
beautifully over years. Sparks of brilliance shining through rough cuts
and purposefully harsh editing. I will tell certain people to see it
and will seek it out when if for sale. Afterwards, the park, the
sunset. People smiling; kites. I feel I talk too much, but then again,
I will selfconcious for a very first time. Sincerly, a tell me why? The
ocean. And answers. Words, trilling only because I hear them as such.
Laughter underwater, under thoughts, made of truth. Perhaps I will
spend that time. Perhaps I will say Yes finally, though a doubt asks if
only it must be one of my only remaining fears.

Desire carries consequence.
can i dare that responsibility

It was too far to walk to Main street from English Bay. Continuing
forward I could feel the bones. Picturing the piston shift movement of
the undercarriage. Joints and justice. I will feel this tomorrow and be
lucky if I do not feel it tonight.

binary ink

I’m being forced to sleep. It’s like being locked in a tower of
bone. I feel I must write, but am being flooded with so many subjects,
personal mythology, that I cannot choose. Dying, I am locked in my own
ivory cage. Transcendence into the fire.

Out there and in daylight, there is a girl at home.
She can write.

I was talking with Bill today and at one point I told him that
everyone has been giving me different pieces to fix my life with.
(Though what it needs fixing from is beyond me to know). I said, “To
everything, Ian says I need a tazer, Dominique says I need sex, and
Sophie says I need to go over and make her Sangria.”

This binary ink is not helping. These words are dripping wrong from my fingers.

inspire me to poetry so that i may rest

my spirit guide captures image

In spite of changing clothing, the scent of the frenchman has caught. Tonight I sleep alone.
Fur catching in my hair, unexpected. Trees of darkness spreading thier
branches over the nightrid bed. My wings have caught the air and I fly.

I love the Dance, the steps, the thoughts.
How is it possible to convey body language over the phone? An
ordinary conversation, an easy-going patter of nothing in particular. I
hang up knowing I’ve been asked over ‘for the night’ without a word or
inflection to say so.

I may be a happy person, but it’s because I’m laughing at you.

Puppy, patter, patterns on tile.
I write this down to remember you by. The backporch looks over an
orchard. Cherry trees I want to climb, the thought of pie tins
flashing.
I’m too tired to think, to type, to write.
It will be a lovely day tomorrow.

prepare, my dearest, for I fall from grace

i had to reinvent myself in order to escape the burden of recurrence.

Anything at all. I have scandalized. It’s great!

I wish Marissa were in town. I would love to hear her laughing at me
for my first non-fictional infatuation. Her height makes me feel 
protective. I noticed it yesterday wtih Chelsea and Dominique. Standing
a head above them created a feeling I know from being with her. Like I
should spread my black wings and infold them. Safety inside the cloak
of my mans walk.

the language of relationships needs a kick of italian

I feel like burning a bridge today to go along with my undone buttons.
I talked to Bill for an hour after getting home. Why does my sorrow
feel so good? There’s a bittercoffee taste, but it’s he who hates
himself. I only am left with old, familiar hurts that I’m learning to
expect. Neglect ever and after. These grains of rice collected on the
kings chessboard aren’t drowning me anymore.

At least I know the last name of this one. Laughable, really, the
thirty year rule. Where is my mind that I could think such a thing?
This is your fault, my darling girl. And then continue. Ah well – play
gentleman and I’ll still respect you in the morning, but don’t expect
me to kiss you. I’m drifting too much and knowing finally what I don’t
need. You know I thought about it. You know I’ll come when you invite
me back.
Same game, different players. This should be a pay-per-view television show with someone sexier as me. I’ve missed this. The Dance.

a word for those friends that are as close as lovers, perhaps more
loved than they – a word for those fools that you will play with yet do
not care for –  a word for thinging  – a word for um-friends
– a word for those in between spaces that do not exist in storybooks

I just realized it’s MONDAY

Well – I seem to have come home with a vengeance. Amazing how it’s
possible to convey assumptions into conversation that have nothing to
do with words or inflection. That must be one of my favorite parts of
language. The subtly altered conversations. If I start seducing that
circle of friends, I am so doomed. Dominique gets to laugh at me.
*in the dark surrounded by glowing stars*
“I was just talking with a friend of mine today about how it would be
be good for me to have a two week fling with someone intelligent who
wouldn’t treat me as property”
“too bad I’m not intelligent then”
Thanks to the world for beautiful people.

 I’ve come home to my fish and my computer. One is happier than
the other. I just walked down the Drive with Prospero, stopping briefly
to say hello to Ada. The sun is brighter than it seemed to be when we
first got up, blinking. I don’t know who else I’m seeing today, but I
sincerly am hoping to share another bed sometime this week. Waking
happier. It’s so alone otherwise. My double-bed feels empty, like I’m
trying to sleep with the wind.

“I thought that at a certain point, boys tended to grow up a bit”
“where’s the advantage in that?”

damn the french

T-Party invite

Please Forward Far & Wide

*:-.,_,.-:*’“’*:-.,_,.-:*’“’*:-.,_,.-:*’“’*:-.,_,.-:*

The “Alice in Wonderland” Mad Tea Party – Sunday June 20th

*:-.,_,.-:*’“’*:-.,_,.-:*’“’*:-.,_,.-:*’“’*:-.,_,.-:*

*The Mad Hatter*
on Behalf Of
THE FOOL’S SOCIETY
Humbly Invites
YOU

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
To
* THE 11th ANNUAL *
ALICE IN WONDERLAND
* MAD TEA PARTY *
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

a pastoral afternoon of costume,
cucumber sandwiches, and a ‘nearly-serious’
croquet match

SOLSTICE
Sunday June 20th 2004
From 12:00 Noon
Until 4:00 p.m.

At
– – – TROUT LAKE PARK – – –
(19th & Victoria)
In the Usual Spot
/// West Side of the Lake
Beneath a Shady Tree \\\

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Please Attend
As ANY Character
from “Alice in Wonderland”

* ALL AGES WELCOME *

Bring:

a Tea Pot
a Picnic Blanket
AND
a Yummy Treat to Share

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

CROQUET RALLY presided over by:
THE KING AND QUEEN OF HEARTS
*
CAUCUS RACE LED BY THE DODO
+
SPECIAL APPEARANCES BY

THE CATERPILLAR
THE JABBERWOCK
QUEEN VICTORIA
&
THE CARNIVAL BAND
*
Stray Flamingoes
&
Backwards-Running Watches
to be Expected

STAY #TUNED#
FOR DETAILS

Or Ask The Cat

*:-.,_,.-:*’“’*:-.,_,.-:*’“’*:-.,_,.-:*’“’*:-.,_,.-:*

Papparazi and
Potentatoes may contact:

THE FOOL’S SOCIETY
VANCOUVER, B.C.

foolish@fools-society.com
www.fools-society.com

(604) 444 – MUSE

*:-.,_,.-:*’“’*:-.,_,.-:*’“’*:-.,_,.-:*’“’*:-.,_,.-:*

PLEASE FORWARD THIS
INVITE TO A FRIEND
Especially If He or She
Is a Fool

*

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
FINAL NOTICE:
In Case Of Terrible Weather
Tea Party Shall be Postponed
One Week
(Until the 27th)
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

sitting pretty pointless

Sad little Sophie in her pretty prom dress.

She was forgotten, an “oversight” and not on the list. We left without
taking a step. I never even saw the room full of prettied people
waiting. I sat in the foyer, an empty twenty minutes sitting on a
bench, before she came out crying. Her graduation into real-life
bitternes a moment too soon. I know the feeling, the forgotten. I eat
my disapointment. I swallow it with it’s spikes and nails like hard
glittering candy.

With her and her friend, *she who has seen terrible movies of which I
can only dream*, we went to Blenz. We met a man with a wonderful name,
Burton Samograd. He joined us for coffee and went with us after to
Tafs. I think for us, he may have saved the evening slightly, though I
don’t know. He also left us with his bill.  Afterwards, we
fractured. Splitting at the Skytrain station. I waited at Broadway with
Sophie for her mother before getting on a bus filled with drunk people
having fun.

So no prom tonight. No prom for me nor Sophie, though perhaps she will
be along with someone else’s. I ran into T. Paul while getting her a
corsage to pin to the bag. He saw the irony of my going to such a
thing. he laughed a bit before walking on. It seems somehow destined,
in a bitterself way, that the evening was not to be. A pity as well, in
a way, for no SinCity tonight, no dancing at fetish night. I will have
to wait until next month and I need to go move.