Saturday, July 31, 2010


like a worm, or a mollusk, like a jellyfish or squid
like a beetle, praying mantis or an eight-legged arachnid
like a knight who hunts a dragon, troll, elf, unicorn or gnome
you're Karkinos on a quest to find his mythical backbone

Friday, July 23, 2010

night fishing

The tide was high tonight. I could feel the waves break against the bottom of the pier and almost touch the surf. I often stop short of walking out to the end. There are always fisherman down there with smelly bait. Pieces of dried seaweed and white bird splatter line the railing. Every corner is a leaky trash can and the smell of piss. Tonight the fisherman had edged inland. I suppose it's natural that they should follow the water. They intrigue me. I've never seen any of them catch anything, but they must.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

I swear to God!

I will not
be afraid
to be alone,
to be a maid.
I will not
compromise -
until I've met
a heart made
of the same stuff
roughly the
same size
as mine.

Friday, July 16, 2010

angel food

I've been having insatiable cravings for high calorie treats lately. I stopped by the grocery store to buy toilet paper on my home from a work meeting - a bad idea because I like to snack after work (I was a latchkey kid growing up and would make myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, religiously, every day after school). But, on my way in I passed by an angel food cake display and then ran into some blueberries and the combination of those two topped with Haagen-Dazs vanilla ice cream sounded so good.... and I never indulge like this...  and buying these items here, now, would support the responsible consumption of only somewhat junkie food (it does say "all-natural" on the Haagen-Dazs carton) rather than binging on unhealthier sweets at worse times (like a brick of carrot cake before bedtime). Makes sense, right? 

The first day and a half of having these items in the house went off without a hitch. Yesterday I got home from work and immediately went for my treat. I pull the ice cream out of the freezer and start digging away at what is a very solid block of ice cream, totally sleepwalking through this. Suddenly the large scoop I've been working on frees itself from the rest and pops me in the face before landing on the floor. This still doesn't wake me. I pick it up, throw it in the sink, wipe my face off and keep going. I eat my treat and continue with my day, having a light salad for dinner (which I was proud of).

So last night on my way out the door (on a date in fact) I slipped my right foot into a shoe and felt it slide inside. Something was not right here. In fact something was downright slimy. In a flash I knew what this mysterious substance was - none other than a congealed puddle of Haagen-Dazs vanilla ice cream which had been overlooked in my dessert-eating mid-afternoon fervor.  I don't know if what I've written here can fully convey how truly poetic and humorous this experience struck me as, in the moment, but before I had even withdrawn my foot from said slimy apparatus I knew I had to try. Commentary on healthy salad-making practices and chaste visits to the o' holy shopping mart to follow at a later date.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

monkey wishes

I was humbled and quieted today looking out at the ocean from the pier. I noticed my shoulders had crept up to my ears. What would happen if I allowed them to ease away slowly, toward the railing? The thought produced a full-body release up my spine, neck, out through my arms, behind my knees, to my feet and I felt human again, suddenly. I felt more available, more free. Silence can be experienced inwardly - even amidst of the bustle and clamor of the Venice Pier. The scene comes to my eyes gently. Swathes of pink clouds in the sky. Surfers. Swimmers. People on bikes whizzing behind. The coastline with it's arms outstretched. I don't have to wonder if I am worthy (my fist still tightly closed around the cherry). I ask it to stay. I ask it not to forget me as I continue to age. I beg it to teach me how to love before I pass away.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Monday, July 5, 2010

from yesterday:

dry leaves chase me down the sidewalk two or three feet behind, caught in a breeze. upstairs my windows open to the sound of my neighbor's lovemaking. the gentle cooing of pigeons.