(no subject)
Insomnia. New haircut. The Epoxies. Xerox art. Mix tapes. Band practice. Dada: Art and Anti-Art. Cold feet. People talk too much and say nothing at all. Tip toe through the sleeping house.
I've been thinking about appendages, amputations, phalanges, prosthetics.
I couldn't sleep the night my grandmother's leg was amputated. I paced and fretted until finally I called the hospital and it took me awhile to get to talk to someone who could answer my question. They put her leg in the incinerator.
The first time I went to my boyfriend's childhood home, we sat in his old bedroom eating peanut butter and marshmallow cream sandwiches. He showed me his comic books and the window he climbed out of to sit on the roof and look at the stars and smoke. He handed me a box which contained the petrified tip of his ex-girlfriend's finger. She had contracted spinal meningitis and nearly died. The tips of her fingers turned black and hard and brittle and fell off. She saved them in a jar. Except the one. She gave it to him.
When I worked at a grocery store all of the guys from the meat department hung out in the break room together at their own little table by the microwave. Among the whole group there was 5 heads and 47 fingers.
I met a guy named Kip at a bar awhile back. He is missing both legs from just below the knee, one arm, and a few fingers from his remaining hand. He was playing pool. He didn't win, no, but he wasn't bad... considering. We talked about recording equipment and the Vagina Monologues and the time he spent in jail.
When my dad was in the hospital last summer, his room was right across the hall from that of a man who had just had his leg amputated. He moaned and yelled out, "Oh God!" constantly. The nurse would pop into my dad's room for a minute, muttering about how the amputee was taking up the staff's time and energy and how she'd be glad when he was gone. I wanted to stick her leg in the incinerator.
There was the other guy I met in the same bar where I met Kip. He had one leg and not many more teeth. He fell down countless times before we got him to the car to take him home. Home was a small room with a cot and a black and white t.v. and nothing more. I found out later that a friend of mine picked up the same drunk, one legged guy and took him home.... literally. The poor guy was passed out on the sidewalk and his crutch was nowhere to be seen. My friend picked him up, threw him over his shoulder and carried him for ten blocks.
My uncle Rusty didn't have his fingers removed so much as they melted away. He was a electrician, working on power lines. He touched the wrong one and now his fingers are stubs. He got half a million dollars and bought his church a bus, his daughter a pony, and his parents a trip to Mexico.
My son wants to have his arm removed and replaced with a bionic arm, made of rust proof titanium. I hope he outgrows this desire.
The electrician that works for my landlord has a prosthetic leg. It is super sleek, futuristic, with shocks and joints. This impresses my son very much. Especially when he takes it off and leans it against the washing machine so he can slip into the tight space between the dryer and the wall.
I've been thinking about appendages, amputations, phalanges, prosthetics.
I couldn't sleep the night my grandmother's leg was amputated. I paced and fretted until finally I called the hospital and it took me awhile to get to talk to someone who could answer my question. They put her leg in the incinerator.
The first time I went to my boyfriend's childhood home, we sat in his old bedroom eating peanut butter and marshmallow cream sandwiches. He showed me his comic books and the window he climbed out of to sit on the roof and look at the stars and smoke. He handed me a box which contained the petrified tip of his ex-girlfriend's finger. She had contracted spinal meningitis and nearly died. The tips of her fingers turned black and hard and brittle and fell off. She saved them in a jar. Except the one. She gave it to him.
When I worked at a grocery store all of the guys from the meat department hung out in the break room together at their own little table by the microwave. Among the whole group there was 5 heads and 47 fingers.
I met a guy named Kip at a bar awhile back. He is missing both legs from just below the knee, one arm, and a few fingers from his remaining hand. He was playing pool. He didn't win, no, but he wasn't bad... considering. We talked about recording equipment and the Vagina Monologues and the time he spent in jail.
When my dad was in the hospital last summer, his room was right across the hall from that of a man who had just had his leg amputated. He moaned and yelled out, "Oh God!" constantly. The nurse would pop into my dad's room for a minute, muttering about how the amputee was taking up the staff's time and energy and how she'd be glad when he was gone. I wanted to stick her leg in the incinerator.
There was the other guy I met in the same bar where I met Kip. He had one leg and not many more teeth. He fell down countless times before we got him to the car to take him home. Home was a small room with a cot and a black and white t.v. and nothing more. I found out later that a friend of mine picked up the same drunk, one legged guy and took him home.... literally. The poor guy was passed out on the sidewalk and his crutch was nowhere to be seen. My friend picked him up, threw him over his shoulder and carried him for ten blocks.
My uncle Rusty didn't have his fingers removed so much as they melted away. He was a electrician, working on power lines. He touched the wrong one and now his fingers are stubs. He got half a million dollars and bought his church a bus, his daughter a pony, and his parents a trip to Mexico.
My son wants to have his arm removed and replaced with a bionic arm, made of rust proof titanium. I hope he outgrows this desire.
The electrician that works for my landlord has a prosthetic leg. It is super sleek, futuristic, with shocks and joints. This impresses my son very much. Especially when he takes it off and leans it against the washing machine so he can slip into the tight space between the dryer and the wall.