Apparently after three drinks is the right time to write. I’m not sure this is true. Right now, I am in that space, because I’m with friends who are going to a concert. And so far I have discovered that my triceps are awesome, I like doing slant pushups and feel open to sharing that with people after drink number 2.5. Also, I like red lipstick more right now and I think everything is funnier.
I don’t think this has improved my writing. Especially since I almost just misspelled that word — “writing,” which is what I’m doing.
And, my friend Sam wants to make it known that the porn industry is not susceptible to recessions.
It’s like chocolate. Apparently.
St. Andrews is pretty when the sun shines. SEA!
Life unravels slow
like the blue tide receding
until on turning
first away and back again
change is dramatic
Apparently I am obsessed with the sky
I am learning
while writing an essay
that I have only room and patience
to think about stars
and blue or grey or black expanses
Before I wondered why I climb
on roofs and into trees
why I stand gawking up
after trips when I should be tired
barely able to walk
let alone look for so long
But I am obsessed with the underside
of the universe
the potential for the magnificently sized
I can become lost at sea or in the mountains
but I would rather be lost in the sky.