I’m currently in the backwoods of Indiana. [Noblesville to be precise. Hamilton county is one of the richest and fastest growing counties in the nation, but it still feel like backwoods because] My aunt and uncle still depend on AOL dial-up for internet access, but I’m currently stealing WiFi from one of the $400k clonehouses […]
Archive for April, 2006
CAVEAT: This post contains egregious amounts of cursing. • When merging and you are in the yield lane, yield you motherfucker. And for chrissakes speed the fuck up on an on-ramp. You should be going at least 60 by the time you reach the merge area on the interstate. • When on the interstate and […]
A part of this viewing list: Criterion Collection Spine #326: Whit Stillman’s Metropolitan. Metropolitan is a movie about the Urban Haute Bourgeoisie, debutantes and their escorts, people who read literary criticism but not the actual books, and kids who obsessively worry about their own downfall, debate theoretical political systems and don’t know how to drive […]
The GMMC met for the final time in this funding round last night at the Cleveland Foundation. We had delicious Eastern European food from North Coast, recommended by Sokolowski’s. I particularly liked the stuffed cabbage. And I hate cabbage. Bob Brown from the Cleveland Planner’s office spoke to us about the update to the city […]
Well if I hadn’t been convinced before, this month’s attempts at writing a poem a day should have convinced me that my writing process cannot be disciplined and effective. I write when the spirit moves me, when Papa Legba uses me as his horse and what not. So I’m bailing on National Poetry month a […]
I spent the entire weekend cleaning my apartment. It wouldn’t pass a military inspection, but it is much cleaner than it was even when I moved in. Cleaning the windows was the worst part since they were sealed with caulk at the beginning of winter and I had to pick it all off. My hands […]
My first key had no keyhole but I felt grown up anyway. I had responsibility now, and secrets though even I did not know what lay behind its lock. I would play with my parent’s keys and ask them to tell me stories about each, this one opens the door to work, where things I […]
for Megan I don’t trust the postman. My letters arrive in a certain order on certain days where the shadows of limbs cross on the mailbox like a lock. I never hear him arrive; I try to watch for him but always something makes me look away—Nicodemus wanting water, flickering leaves, a strange noise from […]
Pavanna Gallery in Tremont is going out of business, so I got this painting for 42 bucks. This is one of my semi-annual art purchases. I like that it is blue and tall and skinny. I sort of feel like they are soldiers taking a break between battles, and I feel outside of their camaraderie.
What should I read this summer?
He saddled his Sopwith Camel and went on a milk run for some cheese. snap trap! No more Ace in his hole.
Billy the Bully, a school-yard terror, likes lunch money shakedowns and pulling girls’ hair. He’s mean and mad and rude and big. Even the teachers think he’s a pig. But I’m his friend.
Despite the fact that at any given time there are around 10 security-enabled WiFi connections, one can in fact get free WiFi by Claes Oldenburg’s FREE stamp if you hold your mouth just right. Thanks CaseGuest! You can also watch the lake and the plane from Burke promoting Christie’s Cabaret.
Sisyphus and Tantalus are arm-wrestling on their coffee break. One has cracked and dusty fingers hard as rolled stone. One has algae in his hair and lips like the Gobi. Sisyphus is stronger, but Tantalus talks good fish- tongued trash. They’ve got a bet. Each wants what the other has, but break time is over. […]
When the siege and assault had ceased at Troy, Aeneas paid me a visit. I offered him some plantains and he told me “vegetables are what food eats.” He strode around my wattle and daub, grimacing. Pulled on white gloves as if it were inspection day, my billet a master work of jackleg engineering. He […]
Every ime I wri e his ll of he s, s, and s dis ppe r. I hi k here mus be e er hidi g be ween he li es.
A great cloud of smoke hanged over town. The color of my mother’s lungs, orange-dawned sky, white birds ravelled like thread. The Goodyear clock hadn’t been lit in months and even then it only flashed the wrong time.
hey buddy, what’s up with your loco motive? you think you can touch her and make her want you? you think because you’re bigger and stronger and creepier she should give it up to you? or you’ll what? tie her to the tracks? twirl your mustache? I’ve got news for you. you’re the one roped […]
A part of this viewing list: Criterion Collection Spine #105: Stanley Kubrick’s Spartacus. The first time I saw this film I was about ten. Therefore I missed all the political criticism, sexual undertones [there should totally be a lounge band called The Sexual Undertones] and pathos contained in the film. I also knew jack about […]
Okay, so Tom Waits, Roberto Begnini and John Lurie are in a jail in Lousiana and they’ve got one cigarette left. The concrete walls sweat with humidity and the mattresses stink like stale sweat and dry urine. These guys have one cigarette and a pack of cards. Begnini don’t play gin and Lurie won’t play […]
A part of this viewing list: Criterion Collection Spine #59: Liliana Cavani’s The Night Porter. There is a picture of a naked woman at the end of this review. If you or your workplace has a problem with that, you should probably not read this or wait until you get home. The Night Porter is […]
oh, [it is like leaping once from a mountain, then kneeling at the earth's core; with wind still whistling past your ears] yes.
I have cut them three times and they are still too short. I will force it. Save me a dollar my matreshki, work bigger in smaller. When I steal your sheep, thank me for doing it. Say: “Verily! Ye corporate gods.”
jet fuel does not burn at first; there must be that first spark there must always have been a first spark, like when we greeted each other our hellos collided and there was a flash but no clap of thunder though there should have been and the sound of trumpets or at least something more […]
Apparently they’re called gingerbread persons now. Pretty girls in Tremont run early in the morning, not in the afternoon like I do. Little boys named Mateo will magically appear every time you’re at the library and annoy the ever-living shit out of you while you apply for jobs. I love giving people directions to places […]
my slumbering tides shall not coalesce into the tramping of office buildings cannot not coerce me into stuffing meaning into words like too tight clothing or coincide with the temper of my weekend. There is no coordination between my foot and mouth, though following them often brings me to the same place. I will no […]
The entryway always smelled like something rotten in late summer. We didn’t have time to do more than wrinkle our noses, Billy and me, those double-glass doors with the wire inside were just part of the distance between mom’s apartment and the street outside, like the torn and curled rubber on the stairwell like the […]
¿ is a naked lightbulb always a good idea – When she walks her hips curl like smoke and back room deals – old now bent like a question mark – she bends from ? to ! in his arms then . – imperative? imperative. imperative! – What you say? Just a little experimenting?
A part of this viewing list: Criterion Collection Spine #317: Powell and Pressburger’s The Tales of Hoffmann. This is another Criterion film that didn’t do so much for me. I’m not too keen on musicals and there are some very large hurdles to surmount in turning a musical into a musical on film. The Tales […]
there is a caul of dust on the stairs where, past his bedtime, he used to watch freedom through banister rungs the feet on handmedown pajamas too large; sleeves too short. he still wonders what they meant by “you’ll grow into it.” If you can’t tell already, this is speed poetry week. I’m spending […]
When the bell rings he comes from all angles, short water drop jabs to face and shoulders; feet cat-confident sly-eyed with years of training. later, a single uppercut undercut slips by and while he takes it standing, the judges declare defeat by decision. This one goes out to anyone who has ever worked extremely hard […]
We had a marathon round of interviews last night. 7 in 3.5 hours. The upside of this, however, is that we have a short week next week for the last round. We had some very impressive presentations and proposals on some tactical and general neighborhood initiatives, and I actually had knowledge that was worth sharing. […]
rail spli tter tall like pine thin like reed lick any man that will wet his horns. you’ll talk’em down first if you can or if you cain’t you’ll put fire on the mountain and in our bellies teach us to speak lead lead us to speak of your speaking as of prophets and martyrs […]
A part of this viewing list: Criterion Collection Spine #320: John Ford’s Young Mr. Lincoln. Young Mr. Lincoln is a film by John Ford, starring Henry Fonda, about Abraham Lincoln when he was just a greenhorn lawyer in Springfield, Illinois. The Geoffrey O’Brien essay linked at the end of this review is so well done […]
A part of this viewing list: Criterion Collection Spine #244: Jean Renoir’s Elena and Her Men. I’ve had plenty of strange coincidences in my Criterion viewings so far. I’ve not been picking films with any rhyme or reason, but stuff like this has been happening all too often: The last movie I reviewed was by […]