family fun and poetry
tonight my sister and i took our parents out for their anniversary and gave them the photobook, and my dad's expression when he saw the cover can only be described as soppy. i think that was because of the photo more than the book, but still. they liked it. we were pleased.
dinner was delicious (greek tapas) and i ate too much of it. it felt like friday and i really don't want to go to work tomorrow. i want it to be the weekend so i can go passover shopping and work on my bang. tomorrow night is a (very small) dinner out for my cousin's kid's bar mitzvah - my parents, me, my sister, my cousin, his wife, and their two youngest. it's at 6:15 at a restaurant probably forty minutes from my house, the only way i can make it is if i leave work early, and... i don't want to go. >.< i'm not sure i can leave early, anyway. busy season, you know. altho it's been weirdly chill the past couple days.
have a poem.
Say despite all the churches with their unlocked doors
and outstretched strangers’ palmskin, I hungered still
--squandered when, fell through like a crumb, I sat waiting
for discovery or disintegration--something marvelous
teething at the surface--a crumb, devotional, religious ecstatic
closer to being worthy
Desire me ruthless and naked but still in my Sunday dress
you opened the window--we humid and slept open
into dreaming, yes, conduit. Conduit or nothing. Conduit
or bust. Nothing or busted. Hug the breakwater’s edge
more the grit, my fingers--whorl, the inches of all
concrete make miles of this low, walled city.
Pretend expansive with me like ocean.
River. Lake. Bodies.
--"[A Crumb in the Cobblestone--Tell Me This Landscape Darkened Without You]", Jerika Marchan
dinner was delicious (greek tapas) and i ate too much of it. it felt like friday and i really don't want to go to work tomorrow. i want it to be the weekend so i can go passover shopping and work on my bang. tomorrow night is a (very small) dinner out for my cousin's kid's bar mitzvah - my parents, me, my sister, my cousin, his wife, and their two youngest. it's at 6:15 at a restaurant probably forty minutes from my house, the only way i can make it is if i leave work early, and... i don't want to go. >.< i'm not sure i can leave early, anyway. busy season, you know. altho it's been weirdly chill the past couple days.
have a poem.
Say despite all the churches with their unlocked doors
and outstretched strangers’ palmskin, I hungered still
--squandered when, fell through like a crumb, I sat waiting
for discovery or disintegration--something marvelous
teething at the surface--a crumb, devotional, religious ecstatic
closer to being worthy
Desire me ruthless and naked but still in my Sunday dress
you opened the window--we humid and slept open
into dreaming, yes, conduit. Conduit or nothing. Conduit
or bust. Nothing or busted. Hug the breakwater’s edge
more the grit, my fingers--whorl, the inches of all
concrete make miles of this low, walled city.
Pretend expansive with me like ocean.
River. Lake. Bodies.
--"[A Crumb in the Cobblestone--Tell Me This Landscape Darkened Without You]", Jerika Marchan