urtica dioica

[_vendetta]

writing on glowing screens in the montreal library with window-walls behind me and watching the traffic reflections; i feel like i`ve set up some kind of camp here with my bag and my books and my what-have-you spattered around me like i`m some kind of jackson pollack. i can`t figure out how to bring some yarrow home with me and plant it and make it grow but i want to and i want to be surrounded by milleflora and i want the library monitor to stop telling me to put my goddamn feet down. my heart has been acting bipolar lately, what with leaping into my throat and half-choking me with tear-inducing joy and then swan diving back down to my stomach where it causes the most wrenching and painful kinds of indigestion unsurpassed even by the ill-advised drinking of a bloated mango tango; it is maybe taking a cue from the weather up here which is mercurial in a much more charming way with warm rains blown into town and just as quickly out again. time is running out on this whole canada thing and soon i`ll be back on the road with my even more oversized pack, screaming at drivers and going deeply but temporarily insane for a variety of reasons; somehow the only aspect i can clearly envision in the next two weeks is what the lights of the sacramento airport look like when you fly in at night. i think i know now how those houses on stilts must feel, the ones on deltas and bayous; sure they`ve got those stilts but that doesn`t mean it`s not going to flood ever again.

p.s. nasson walker stop fucking reading my livejournal