"A new poem for your scrupulous displeasure!"

The folks in my poetry workshop hated this poem because they couldn't wrap their tiny minds around it. Their sentiments made me realize how fantastic this piece must be and, so, I'm sharing it with you and the greater net public.

borrowed flesh

A real asshole talking about cab drivers and fruits vaults a turnstile, sporting a crew cut and sharkskin suit. The heat closes in making devilish stool pigeons. Mosaic of floating news stories peaks at 6pm. Elongated issues pass through table litter night candy unknown, the author is a misplacement of sexual energy. Outside trying to thwart the odorless remnants under a vice specially designed for this and that, a character collector stands out like a hunka tin. Nobody can breathe convolutions of gristle by forcing dietary artists on logic and assaults, the silent black ooze of a gangster’s confidence! Backed by pink smell, regret cannot observe customary obscenities. In some sort of sanitarium the academy waits, thinking victims often know they are going to die often.

Getting hot, the terrible frequency that blinds, some kind of awful climax keeps getting heavier. Torture locates disciplinary procedure for twenty seconds balanced on peril like Japanese boys with fierce innocent faces. This monster, an abbreviated spinal column, grabs the stomach in moments of excitement and lapses into broken English. Rain bouncing up the stairs’ stuffy German alcoves, a limestone altar marking the center hemisphere for real, as artificial wings copulate the air with shit and whimper.

Chicken saw something ignoble and obvious reflected back from a jaunty wave carried by a little exclamation of disgust marked by tentative fades abdicated in a cold yellow halo. The Florida tan carried as a prop read as Little Abner. No pride, a distinct revulsion, can get used to anything proffered and proliferated flooding the world with cheap.

Huge iron-lungs full of paralyzed pies pop with horribles and pantomime. A room filled with green light misunderstood. No proof recommends confinement accurately contained.

"VD Again"

Some states are Red
Some states are Blue
Bipartisan politics?
How about you?

Honestly, I don't know where that little diddy came from or what it has to do with V-Day. I suppose one could make the connection that both politics and V-Day are manufactured concepts created to bring us together but, in fact, tear us apart. I mean, look at all the expectation built up around V-Day. Let's leave politics for another discussion. Was Saint Valentine the saint of love anyway? Here's the scoop:

The roots of St. Valentine's Day lie in the ancient Roman festival of Lupercalia, which was celebrated on Feb. 15. For 800 years the Romans had dedicated this day to the god Lupercus. On Lupercalia, a young man would draw the name of a young woman in a lottery and would then keep the woman as a sexual companion for the year.

Pope Gelasius I was, understandably, less than thrilled with this custom. So he changed the lottery to have both young men and women draw the names of saints whom they would then emulate for the year (a change that no doubt disappointed a few young men). Instead of Lupercus, the patron of the feast became Valentine. For Roman men, the day continued to be an occasion to seek the affections of women, and it became a tradition to give out handwritten messages of admiration that included Valentine's name.

There was also a conventional belief in Europe during the Middle Ages that birds chose their partners in the middle of February. Thus the day was dedicated to love, and people observed it by writing love letters and sending small gifts to their beloved. Legend has it that Charles, duke of Orleans, sent the first real Valentine card to his wife in 1415, when he was imprisoned in the Tower of London. (He, however, was not beheaded, and died a half-century later of old age.)

Hm. Beheadings, bird sex, and Romans. This explains alot and makes me long for the Roman society. Love would be so much less complicated if it were decided in a lottery and only lasted for a year. Perhaps I should start a movement to ressurect the Roman way of life. After all, when in Rome . . .

"LA Weather On My Mind"

The weekend forecast for Los Angeles is:

On The Spot Weather

Friday Feb 11 

Sunny
High 71°F
Low 50°F
Precip:   10%

Saturday 12 

Mostly Sunny
High 74°F
Low 50°F
Precip:   10%

Sunday 13 

Partly Cloudy
High 75°F
Low 52°F
Precip:   20%

What else is there to say?

"Survey Says"

I luv a fun survey! I just saw this one on my friend Charlotte's blog page. I've altered some of the questions alittle and dropped one that referenced something from a stupid TV show I never watched. The survey is all about your senior year.

1. What year was it? 1984/85
2. What were your 3 fav bands/musicians? Culture Club, Pat Benatar, & Cyndi Lauper
3. What was your fav outfit? black, tight-ass jeans, black-t, and either a black or white karate uniform top (wierd, but cool)
4. What was up w/ your hair? Actually, it was very low-key, kind of Shawn Cassidy like
5. Who were your best friends? Hm? Stephanie, Carol, Jennifer, David, Patty, Debbie, Robin, Melissa . . . I don't remember
6. What did you do after school? very little
7. Where did you work? work?
8. Did you take the bus? Hell no, I had a '73 Honda Accord hatchback
9. Who did you have a crush on? I was way too repressed for crushes
10. Celebrity crush? Hm? The bionic man
11. Did you fight with your parents? daily
12. Did you smoke? only when I was with the burnouts in the school parking lot
13. Carry your books in a backpack? No, I often forgot to bring them to class and often failed classes
14. In a clique? I knew people in cliques
15. Were you popular? I'm sure people look at me in their yearbook and wonder if I was even really there
16. Who did you want to be like? Didn't really know, still not entirely sure
17. What did you want to be? fashion designer
18. Where did you expect to be at the age you are now? definitely dead

"Dumb, da, da, da . . . D-u-m-b!"

I'm a moron. No, seriously, I have some sort of intellectual flaw or resistence to adaptation. See, I'm originally from the far south (no, that doesn't explain it) where it never gets cold and it only snows on TV. I've lived in Chicago for thirteen years and there are still times when I do the dumbest things. It took me almost eight years to get a proper winter coat. You know, first I went for looks and then I got one of those marshmallow man jackets, then, eventually settling on a vintage p-coat. However, my most recent blunder takes the cake. It all started with my very dirty car. Really, really filthy, snow stained, can't see through the windsheild dirty. It hadn't been washed since early fall. I tend to follow the line of thinking that once the weather goes bad (ie fall, winter, spring - rain, snow, rain) that there's no point in having the car washed when it's just going to be messed up again in a few days. Anyway, Dalloway (yes, I've named my car after the Mrs. She's a very literary, old Volvo) was looking grungy and driving sluggishly. Although, I think the main impetus for me was the fact that I was having trouble seeing out the windshield. One of Dalloway's ticks is her windshield wipers work, okay, but the one on the driver's side is slightly warped, so that with each stroke it leaves a streak right at eye level. Alright, so I took her to the touchless, drive through place near my apartment. I sat there contemplating whether to do the four or five dollar wash. The five gives you a forty-five second blow dry. I opted for the five and the wash proceeded. Dalloway seemed quite pleased at first but then as we proceeded to have her dried off, the force of the air on her wet skin caused an instant sheet of ice to encapsulate the entire car. I was suddenly trapped in a giant, mobile ice cube. I was, to say the least, disturbed by this turn of events. At least, I reasoned, Dalloway was clean beneath her half inch sheet of ice and hopefully, once it melted, she'd be spotless. I'll let you know in the spring.

"Anxiety"

I'm feeling anxious about everything right now. I'm returning to my late graduate studies, which I abandoned in a state of disinterest and problems with my program. I was led to believe that things had improved within the program but I found out over the weekend that one of the last two classes I need to finish this thing had been cancled due to lack of enrollment. This has been a problem since I began this program, especially in my concentration. I've been able to combat it by taking independent studies in lieu of classes but it was the class format I wanted from this program. In some ways, it feels like it was all a waste. But, I also feel like not completing it now, when I'm nearly there, would be a greater waste. I'll be through by September. It's funny, this situation seems to be reflective of much of the years I've spent in the midwest. It's always been a place of tenuous possibilities that crumble under the oppressive weight of reality. I feel kept down by so many forces from the harsh climate to unsteady employment to a general lack of enthusiasm to being here. It seems like my life has been swallowed up in the abyss of the midwest. Hours are eternal here but there's never enough time. The days seem shorter than they are ever long. I always miss the summer and dread the winter. This past weekend, we had an extreme blizzard blow through that buried us all in piles of snow. That's how I feel. Buried.

"Golden Globes, Movies, and Good Friends"

I'm not going to give you a run down of the entire Golden Globe ceremony. Fact is, I didn't watch it. I've come to find award shows so boring no matter who or what may be up for an award. However, I will say that I'm delighted by the results that I've found on the GG website this morning. Here are some highlights as they matter to me:

Best Picture/Comedy: Sideways (Duh!)
Best Screenplay/Comedy: Sideways (Double Duh!)
Best Supporting Actress/Drama: Natalie Portman for Closer (didn't I say she was the best thing going in that movie)
Best TV Drama: Nip Tuck (nice surprise, not nearly so predictable)
Best TV Comedy: Desperate Housewives (yes, I am a victim to this show too)

I was also delighted to see that Jason Bateman got one for Arrested Development and Angelica Huston for Iron Jawed Angels. Even though, I know, these awards aren't really given out purely based on merit, it seems this year's crop of winners come closer to the mark than of late. It'll be interesting to see how closely the Oscars line up or diverge.

I also caught Kinsey this weekend with my friend Charlotte. The film was highly praised by a very good friend (who shall remain unnamed). We both found it disappointing. I thought the pace of the film was all wrong. I thought if all the R rated material had been removed (mostly some images and some language) it could have been as successful as a made for TV movie or made for cable (with everything left in). I understand the challenge of doing a biopic in two hours but it's the choices of what to cover and what to skip that will keep my interest or loose it. It was clear to me from this director's point of view how important Kinsey's childhood was to the man he becomes and yet, it was entirely skimmed over in the course of ten minutes. Also, his marriage that forms much of the emotional conflict in the film doesn't receive nearly as much screen time as the syncopated interviews (so boring). I thought Liam Neeson's portrayal of Kinsey was flat. It didn't matter how interesting Laura Linney was because she was acting in a vacuum. In the end, I'm so glad I saw it as a matinee at the Davis ($5). As I look back over the past film season, I can only think of three films that I really enjoyed and those were: A Love Song for Bobby Long, Sideways, and Spanglish in that order. This weekend, I'm looking forward to the opening of the Henry Darger docu-drama In the Realms of the Unreal at the Music Box. Don't know who Henry Darger is? Shame on you!

"My Jet-Set Life "

Oh god, it's hard to come back to the regularity of everyday life after spending two weeks jetting around the US. I've only been away for two weeks but it seems like I've been away forever. Returning to the office this morning, in some ways, felt like my first day of work. Everything seems unfamiliar and simultaneously, sadly familiar.

My first week away was spent in sunny Florida. I flew down the Monday before Christmas so as to avoid weekend travel mess. I hadn't been back to Florida in about seven years but the lay of the land was still pretty much the same. As I drove my rental car from Orlando over to the east coast where my parents live, I remember feeling slightly apprehensive and expectant that it was going to be another week of familial stasis. What I mean is, when one returns to their family after a long absense, whatever issues that were present when one left are still in the air when one returns. My family doesn't communicate about much, at least not much of any real importance. I think this is true of many families however sad it may be. It's about keeping the peace. It's almost accepted that certain known subjects should not be raised. For us, those would be politics, religion, and personal life. Therefore, we spend our time together eating and playing cards. Thankfully, I enjoy both of those activities and my mother is quite a good cook.

I spent a lot of time driving around to old haunts, walking the beach, and digging through boxes of things I left at my parent's house. In one box, I had saved all the notes I ever received while in high school. I browsed through my year books and considered the lack of significance of my class ring. I had reams of miscellaneous papers from school and early years of college before I left for Chicago. Some of my early attempts at writing were downright embarrassing but I've kept them all the same. I also had a box of receipts dating back into the late 70s. Those went through my father's shredder. I had to clean the thing out twice just to get through it all. Why did I hang on to those?

I have only two friends left in Florida, who are this older couple that I befriended when my parents first moved to Melbourne ( little beach town, not to be confused with Australia). Their house, which sits on the river, was badly damaged in the series of hurricanes that passed over the state last summer. But Lock and Suzanne are built of stronger stuff than hurricanes and are using the calamity as a chance to do some remodeling. That's a life lesson if I ever saw one and, really, is the way I live my own life. When life throws a pie in my face, I eat it off. No, no, no, I'm not all smiles all the time. I get upset and disgruntled but that usually passes pretty quick and I move on. Life's too short and seems to be speeding up the older I get. I choose to laugh in the face of adversity! HA!

Got off on a tangent there. Anyway, I quickly got myself out of the sticky situation of "family" and zipped off Christmas Day to spend a night at the airport before catching an early flight Sunday morning for Los Angeles. Now, I had never been to LA before and had heard quite a mixed bag of propaganda both for and against the city. But, I have to say that I have never seen a more beautiful place. The views and drives around town are amazing. The people were very friendly. There wasn't nearly the amount of wealth that I expected to be confronted with or health junkies. I would say the majority of LAers are like most places, middle of the road folks trying to get by. But if you are trying to get by, then you might as well do it in a place that is as beautiful as LA. Mountains, and ocean, excellent weather, and good company. What more could you ask for? Still unsure or think it's all hype. Well, stay tuned and I'll post some pix in the next week. Better yet, ignore the hype and check it out for yourself. Rent a car and drive baby, drive. Drive Sunset north to the Pacific Coast Highway, then keep going to Malibu. Go to the Getty Museum, which sits on a mountain and has some of the most amazing architecture you may ever see (not to mention the art). Eat out at Mel's and Norm's. Stay in West Hollywood (WeHo) at the Valadon where you'll have a suite with a fireplace. Hang out in Los Feliz at Psychobabble and have dinner at Kitchen. Then go for a drink and a laugh at the Bonaventure Hotel's revolving lounge (aka the It's A Living building). Spend a day at the Santa Monica pier and walk (or rent a bike) down to Venice Beach. If you must shop, skip the Beverly Center and go to the Farmer's Market, the Grove, and the Promenade. If you're there on a Monday night, go to The Joint in south Beverly Hills and jam with some of the great musicians from 70s rock bands. Go hiking in the Hollywood Hills early in the morning. LA is movie and TV land but that is only a portion of the town. It is also a fantasitic, inclusive, liberal-minded community that enjoys some of the best living anywhere. I expect to be living there within the year.