(no subject)
White cat died-Leukemia-today.
Harley cried, searching me and her Mum for the ungiven answers until her eyes were puffy and she had a headache.
So, Cricket and I drove all three kids to the Mobile gas-thrift-jewelry-grocery store station in downtown Denton.
They each picked out a snack. We stayed watching two tween-ager boys play pool in the back(ofthemobilestation), patted the fat cat on the cash register, and went home.
Watched Alice and Wonderland, and the kids fell away into an assortment of baby blankets and stuffed animals.
The white cat died
and, a big black labrador puppy showed up on the porch and won't go home.
He's not neutered and he smelled like poop, I gave him a bath.
We and I love him, and Oakley named him Neighborhood.
He's submissive, scittery, been beat hard by somebody.
I think he might be my neighbors, the trailer behind my camper, through the woods a bit.
I dont want them to take him back.
I feel so young, like Harley. Things hurt how they should.
In my reality I sometimes think I can burrow things away, forget to achknowledge , FORGET to see what I need to see. Inside fears, beyond my I, mine, me - wanting and desire deserted, always unspoken, just flat lucid light. Whispers tell me of two oceans. One cruel, unfair, and heavy. One flowing, free and light. Forgivness and creation. I love it simply. I hold it like a seeded weight sprouting my roots into matter, always growing deeper down, eyes up, hair curling.
fried pork skins in sealed crinkly plastic bags, $.99.
No soul, just residue.
Be southern she says,
can't get it off my mind,
like leeches on vaginal walls,
some things dont translate well.
Harley cried, searching me and her Mum for the ungiven answers until her eyes were puffy and she had a headache.
So, Cricket and I drove all three kids to the Mobile gas-thrift-jewelry-grocery store station in downtown Denton.
They each picked out a snack. We stayed watching two tween-ager boys play pool in the back(ofthemobilestation), patted the fat cat on the cash register, and went home.
Watched Alice and Wonderland, and the kids fell away into an assortment of baby blankets and stuffed animals.
The white cat died
and, a big black labrador puppy showed up on the porch and won't go home.
He's not neutered and he smelled like poop, I gave him a bath.
We and I love him, and Oakley named him Neighborhood.
He's submissive, scittery, been beat hard by somebody.
I think he might be my neighbors, the trailer behind my camper, through the woods a bit.
I dont want them to take him back.
I feel so young, like Harley. Things hurt how they should.
In my reality I sometimes think I can burrow things away, forget to achknowledge , FORGET to see what I need to see. Inside fears, beyond my I, mine, me - wanting and desire deserted, always unspoken, just flat lucid light. Whispers tell me of two oceans. One cruel, unfair, and heavy. One flowing, free and light. Forgivness and creation. I love it simply. I hold it like a seeded weight sprouting my roots into matter, always growing deeper down, eyes up, hair curling.
fried pork skins in sealed crinkly plastic bags, $.99.
No soul, just residue.
Be southern she says,
can't get it off my mind,
like leeches on vaginal walls,
some things dont translate well.