There’s a drone in my thread I’m learning to ignore.
I thought about writing a poem and then I Tweeted this.
All the best lines have been written by Topless Jihadis.
Feminism can fit between any two syllables.
Everyone thinks the Hudson Bay is cold but it’s not it’s la Baie Hudson and it’s freezing.
Anyhow, it’s still December and I have some socks to warm.
I lost two pounds thinking of that Tweet.
Shit. There they are again.
Don’t make it new make it lighter.
From “(Mis)Adventures in Poetry” by D.A. Powell in The Writer’s Notebook: Craft Essays from Tin House. Tin House Books: 2009.
The power of our side eyes….beware…
Stacked House / NatureHumaine
Stacy Szymaszek and Allen Ginsberg
Saw some crazy stuff in Bahamas today…
NOTES TO MYSELF (15 Briefs)
“You’re an asshole” —Henry James
You talk on the phone while driving. I think you are just a fucking asshole.
So you two are finding it hard to balance full-time jobs with the demands of raising two kids? You guys are fucking assholes. You are both just fucking assholes.
I heard that you are feeling significant social pressure to create a Facebook account. I want to tell you something. Holding out on registering for this decade’s most popular social utility network doesn’t make you a hero. What would make you a hero is if you stabbed yourself in the fucking neck, fucking asshole.
Because everything has already been done you think it’s okay to retreat into a life of shameless consumerism. This may be true, I don’t know. What hasn’t been done, though, is someone wrapping your house in canvas that says: a real fucking asshole lives here. I’d like to do this to your house.
Your letter says that you have a broken heart. I don’t think you have a broken heart. When a person really has a broken heart she actually just lays on the street and people walk around her, you fucking asshole.
You ask me for a definition of right livelihood. I’ve got one right here: someone who isn’t a fucking asshole.
I’m not sure, to use your phrase, if “in the cosmic sense education is worth it.” What I am sure of is that when you talk to people they are always thinking “this fucking asshole should get a fucking education.”
You want to lose a few pounds and get ripped for summer, fucking asshole.
I shouldn’t even do you this favour but please stop the Walken, the Nicholson, and the Slater bits. You evidently do not know this but every one of your impersonations only sounds like one character: the real fucking asshole.
When you phone for pizza and pretend to be Irish or Scottish (or whatever that accent is supposed to resemble) you don’t sound Irish or Scottish—and you don’t even sound like a fucking asshole—you just sound like a fucking fuckface.
You self-identify as “over-socialized” and purport to understand (with some acuity) everyone’s feelings. Yet everyone’s feelings are simply “let’s beat the shit out of this fucking asshole.”
You’re quite wrong: I have no ill-will towards you. That is, I think I understand and even respect your plight. Indeed, my feelings are identical to your mother’s: “some people are just born fucking assholes.”
You say “I am the John Lennon of real estate” or “the Emma Goldman of online shopping.” You are a fucking asshole.
You have written several film scripts. You have an impressive West German techno record collection. Of course you have! You are a total fucking asshole.
Only a fucking asshole says “when I created the internet…” Stop.
M.I.A. (via doublehelixnucleotide)
Role Model. BOOM.
Postcard found in a book.
I miss The Strand for this reason—I found such great things in the used books I bought there.