i want to buy butterflies for my hair
and i cook soup
to bring to you in vintage pots.
my cupboards are rainbows
my photographs are pastel
and my weather is perfect, no matter how bad.
love
feels
good.
1. life and people are impermanent.
2. slow down.
3. look people in the eye.
4. drink tea.
5. be kind.
6. simple things hold the secret.
Ozu
you said i looked happy.
what i was really feeling
was agony with lies rolling out my mouth like thunder.
truth on the tip of my tongue.
no-one was any help in the flesh.
i look over photos today and think that.
i sobbed
and everyone looked on, confused and helpless.
shoes on rocks.
September 26, 2009
don’t laugh.
September 24, 2009
I TURN AROUND NAKED, VERY SLOWLY.
she’s been anticipating a sort of failure for months.
it’s her retribution.
this is her drama.
there’s no control, and disappointment
like
curlup softglow highcurtain pillowcasestain
when she was a girl
like making new friends.
loss as she remembers
curling up in a cane chair and hearing the news
like an echo, with refrain by beach crash and
happy tourists.
she sees the future like
a suckhole
or sometimes an escape.
a list of things mum sent me in a box in the mail
September 17, 2009
vanilla crostini
a vintage oroton bag
approximately 11 bangles
a pair of clip on earrings
the punch book of women
bakers apple
the complete guide to photography
couscous
bobby pins
john miller’s biography of judy dench
a small kodak guide to exposure
a book of solved sudoku
a vintage pillowcase with a girl on the front with a sign that says “hooray for women’s lib”
a blue teacosy
a green button up shirt
a blue and white spotted dress
a picture of my cousin in the paper
and
q weekend.
eulogy.
September 16, 2009
i’ve got nothing to write that would mean anything in this situation.
i’ve still got glimmers in my eyes.
i’ve encapsulated my body in cotton wool.
i’m still growing back layers and layers of skin.
today i might step on the moon.
