species

you'd think the girls would stick
but then
your Thai Beef Salad comes with no rice
so What The Fuck Do I Do Now NOW?
...
girls are flaky....

stranger

as if you had no choice?
deny those feelings?!?!
those feelings that make you feel proud of me
miss ur train....no?
a minute
...
sorry
...
i fell in love
...
cupid
...
love
...
look at me
...
liar
...
stranger...
yours...
always
yours
Stranger

mojo yogurt

pomegranate frozen yogurt topped with mango chunks
a treat on a cold day
followed by the discovery of missing mosaics
then by a naucious train ride with smells of vommit and urine
remember the yogurt
remember the yogurt
remember the yogurt
mmm...indeed
followed by what might be an awkward dinner with a friend
remember the yogurt

...pomegranate-watermelons would be awesome..seedless, of course

electrochic

her words are written in the form of her nemesis...liquid.
gushing, fiercly vomitting into puddles
emerging into charm and wit
innocently walking into the green room
that vividly pierces through her fuccias and blues
obvious to expose her intricately protected circuits
her faith in logic and rationale broken
experience
ex-pe-ri-ence...
ex
pe
ri
ence....
dissipating to a whisper of metal smoke

and THENNNN......

i return
with a mouth full of mountain dew (diet)
and a pink robe wrapped at my skin
that seems to wrap at my brain
soft and easy
swallow my heart
warm and safe
taking my strength
peacefully given


-grapefruit drinks are healthy

facet

sometimes i just feel like being a bitch
cold
aloof
careless
cruel

cutie pie...boston pie

Simply For Research:
The Boston Creme Pie
I was mistaken, is not a pie afterall.
"It is however, one of the most deliciously wonderful, artery clogging, melt in you mouth while distilling pounds of fat into your thighs cakes you'll ever have!"
And after careless experimentation, what "they" said is true...

I'll check in at noon

Mr. Ladies Man where are you?
Joe?
My friendly counter counterculturalist?
Where is that big fucking stick
elagantly coverd in my blood

Yeah that's the one.
.
.
splat, squish, drip
.
.
We might have to call the cops this time
I think we broke it.
Who's blood is this anyway?

head games

the consumption dream:
this one reoccurs always in my parents bedroom at the old house...the first one when i was about 10. laying on the bed. one feather falls out of the ceiling vent as i lookup. Never falling in a larger quantity than one, accumulating to twenty, hundreds, thousands...suddenly consumed by them but swimming in them. Not drowning just being consumed.
Two night ago i had it with Autumn leaves.
Sequence of emotions:
the joy of the single piece, the joy and fear of the abundance, then the beauty of the colors, then the fear of being crushed, devoured. An overwhelming feeling of not being able to be happy or sad about it...tormenting but beautiful. scary but lovely.

ok...maybe i am (going) "unstable"

laughing at myself has become a new passed time.
irrational thoughts... overspoken outbursts.
hyperactive spells of animosity, paranioa, and plain idiodicy
"chilling out" redefined as blank stares.
not being able to say the word c--zy anymore

buying single tickets to concerts.

uneventful event

old...yes.
they played it last monday at their show.
i went alone.
it was fine.
i bought a t-shirt to commemerate my 30.

recycle thoughts

about susana...
cute and super cool and yes, modest

about littly italy
the food sucks but the name of the street rocks....mulberry

about brooklyn
its a great place...you should live there for a year

about "4 adults only"
i dont know what this mean

maybe not the way to do things but it was done...by yours truely.

i'm not (going) crazy

submerged in our new tub by fog water
swearing it doesnt exist as it floats by
wrinkled hands at my crystal eyelashes
tracing the paths to the spout
squinting...straning to see its origins

double sided tape

I am squeezed between two standard walls
with the silver lining at the top almost grey
smitten by the pressure
but mor smitten by the glare

ps. jibber jabber
hitter hatter
bitter batter

sigh

so the deal is to go back home every january and this january we may not go.
miss my family...my "home".
yes i am home with todd in nyc
but still miss the hot summers...the huge highways, the cool air conditioned sheets, and the power outages after hurricanes.

-watermelon is healthy

LEAVING BK

:)

*
T
E
A
M
L
O
V
E

W
A
S

H
E
R
E
*

selfish

im tired.
exhausted.
cutting cactus, burning heat.
tread on the dusty pebbles.
the hole lies ahead
filled with still reflections
microscopic leeches at my throat
swelling
taking me
killing me
suffocated by my daydreams

coming soon

to a theatre near you
in your head
a story about you and me
divided by a split second
in space, called decision

dont miss out
you will be captivated
by real life
and whimsical dreams
of love and heartbreak and happy endings

monday night $1 beer

dressed in black
ur sweet face
take his seat
smile at me
join me
slow
awkward
beautiful
i should go
on my bike
grasp my lock
ur face was unforgettable

everything becomes nothing

stretched along this couch
eyes strain teared and open
red panties and pink tank wrinkle at my skin
as my fingertips dance at my navel
daydreaming
dreaming
streaming
music
playing
can u hear me?

rain

my thin blouse revealing my teal tank under
letting the damp hair at my cheeks
i look unkept, and bright, and carefree
maybe i look crazy?
no, that guy just did the 180
maybe he likes crazies?
I appproach the 5 dollar umbrella stand
but my green shoes proceed, passed
as water drips from my nose
fluttered eyes, I give the sky my face
In return it takes my thoughts
my fears, my doubts.
and gives me the rain...pouring rain.

bunnys hop

Bunnies hop and they hop...and are undeniably, irressistably cute.
that's what they do best and not much more.

revelations

they happen.
an awakening...my happy awakening.
im leaving for a bit.

coulda...woulda...shoulda

the last laugh out loud...lover of egg whites.
i still smile.
running bagels and sweet cream cheeses.
still smile.
show me off in vegas
pitch me a tent in washington
stroll my hand in new york
sing the prelude to me
on june 21...then july 21.
sept. 21 will be...my forever.

dabda's 2nd 'D' rant

you want a piece of this?
tell me someone who doesnt
hot
smart
funny
sweet
charming of course
take a piece of this
steal it
violate it
destroy it
then toss it back to me
ther are a thousand pieces to go around
.
.
.
all a perfect fit

unchartered territory

i am not a creature of regret
but it seems there is room to learn new tricks
mistakes have always been a tool to learn from
but it seems there wasnt a place for this one

scars

it's been a long time since i fell so hard and scabbed so badly...if ever

self portrait: 11 years in the making

I created once, when i was 18, a painting of my psyche.
the nude figures in the background i had to paint in my bedroom at home. this a was a bit difficult...trying to paint and pose at the same time. they were nice and fluid and warm hues...
The figure of my face, in the foreground. painted with studio lighting. protrayed by blue hues, colder and distorted. easier to paint and more accurate.

shoveling snow

hands grip this wooden shaft
fingers numb as we try to stay awake
feet sinking deeper
looking around for that summer sun
as it pierces through the breeze
eyes fluttering
lips creasing
hands falling
as a breath passes these dry lips
i inhale the spring air

the morning after

swallow this bitter pill
rays dancing on my desk
breezes at marys hair
metal music at my ears

swallow this pill and suffocate on it!
gag on it! cry over it!
until my body has ceased to feel
this soul has lifted beyond the skin
until the very thing that was
is no more

swallow it until the saliva dries
and nothing can grow
except this vanishing hope
that I am not what was