ain't no rest for the wicked
cheetolini has apparently been indicted on thirty-four counts of falsifying business records in order to influence the 2016 election. this works for me. i wish i could skip ahead and see how many he's convicted for, tho. *crosses fingers*
today's cute dog sighting was simba the fluffy pom who seriously looks like a pompom with a nose. he is THE CUTEST and he just looks so happy about his life. there's one admin at work who brings her cat in but everyone else who brings their pets to work brings dogs.
tomorrow morning i'm going to atlanta to have passover with my cousin (and hopefully not get covid this time) and my other cousin and all their kids and who knows who else. i think the theme of the seder is abba because the "here's some things you should know" email from my cousin's husband included a bunch of abba songs. we do not have to dress in our disco finest, thankfully. the seder is going to be at least four hours and i am not emotionally prepared. but i like my cousins and i'm looking forward to seeing them.
I long to hear the history of ordinary people who populate and recreate all over the NYC subway lines, strung together like beans on a charmbracelet drumming on their worldly advice and late-night distractions,
I smoked an ashtray’s worth of cigarettes, cold and tired and snuffing out the little fire on yellow brick walls baring my bones to the whims of demolition,
I jumped over to Manhattan from Staten Island wishing to be Superman but also making music, yes music, from stretched out lizard skins suspended in animation,
I wiped the hair off my scalp dancing around a hollow pumpkin, swore to the forehead of my German moms that I would be unmarried at 50 or otherwise relocate to a harsher life in Uzbekistan,
I hid behind cardamom, cumin, and Halal-style chicken with my eyes darted thinking about Egypt, and the ABCs of Atlantic Barclays Center, Brooklyn, and a biweekly regular named Catherine,
I drank in a tent in the Q train station at Beverly, never showered but always made time to guide clueless New Yorkers to alternative train service like an MTA angel,
I in a rush to get to a Malaysian restaurant in Chinatown dozed off daydreaming about mushrooms, catfish, silkworms and missed my destination by just one stop; went back the other way and still couldn’t stop dreaming,
I asked for baby formula, bow-legged and inarticulate, full of luck and lice on my silver hair, dashed from one street to the other, filling the night with whispers and threats of self-immolation,
I broke a mirror three years before, and now, feeling the effect of medications, yearned to go back to a more violent time in quiet white rooms praying to another religion mistaken for glued together plastic flowers,
I drank my Vietnamese sweat, turned around when spoken to in God’s language, offered fresh fish, pears, and dried plums on a makeshift altar afraid to blink under oath
--Lam Lai, "I, New York"
today's cute dog sighting was simba the fluffy pom who seriously looks like a pompom with a nose. he is THE CUTEST and he just looks so happy about his life. there's one admin at work who brings her cat in but everyone else who brings their pets to work brings dogs.
tomorrow morning i'm going to atlanta to have passover with my cousin (and hopefully not get covid this time) and my other cousin and all their kids and who knows who else. i think the theme of the seder is abba because the "here's some things you should know" email from my cousin's husband included a bunch of abba songs. we do not have to dress in our disco finest, thankfully. the seder is going to be at least four hours and i am not emotionally prepared. but i like my cousins and i'm looking forward to seeing them.
I long to hear the history of ordinary people who populate and recreate all over the NYC subway lines, strung together like beans on a charmbracelet drumming on their worldly advice and late-night distractions,
I smoked an ashtray’s worth of cigarettes, cold and tired and snuffing out the little fire on yellow brick walls baring my bones to the whims of demolition,
I jumped over to Manhattan from Staten Island wishing to be Superman but also making music, yes music, from stretched out lizard skins suspended in animation,
I wiped the hair off my scalp dancing around a hollow pumpkin, swore to the forehead of my German moms that I would be unmarried at 50 or otherwise relocate to a harsher life in Uzbekistan,
I hid behind cardamom, cumin, and Halal-style chicken with my eyes darted thinking about Egypt, and the ABCs of Atlantic Barclays Center, Brooklyn, and a biweekly regular named Catherine,
I drank in a tent in the Q train station at Beverly, never showered but always made time to guide clueless New Yorkers to alternative train service like an MTA angel,
I in a rush to get to a Malaysian restaurant in Chinatown dozed off daydreaming about mushrooms, catfish, silkworms and missed my destination by just one stop; went back the other way and still couldn’t stop dreaming,
I asked for baby formula, bow-legged and inarticulate, full of luck and lice on my silver hair, dashed from one street to the other, filling the night with whispers and threats of self-immolation,
I broke a mirror three years before, and now, feeling the effect of medications, yearned to go back to a more violent time in quiet white rooms praying to another religion mistaken for glued together plastic flowers,
I drank my Vietnamese sweat, turned around when spoken to in God’s language, offered fresh fish, pears, and dried plums on a makeshift altar afraid to blink under oath
--Lam Lai, "I, New York"