they stayed up all night
they were being scrutinized
every street looked the same
they were quick to judge
something was not right
the water was too close
it started to snow
they thought :: why is this place so strange?
they huddled closer
he was going to be sick
she was what dark matter was made of
it was only supposed to be a short visit
i have returned from a place of light and hope, one that i could slip into so so easily and establish a closer self than i think i could here. at 16, i gave myself 5 years in mtl to figure things out and move on [in 2003 the plan was russia, oh small and slavophilic self], and now it seems i’m 23 and pushing 7 years of social incest.
anything that is anything is here. i didn’t even know cortlandt was a real place until a few days ago. behold, the city of dreams, love, and architecture.
I MEAN JUST LOOK AT IT
and i thought i held the amazing ability to create aggregates out of seemingly unrelated things – here is the entire population of canada pieced together snugly on an island making it happen.
the cold ripped us but we traversed, champed, stomped it out, semi transient life forms we were. the sun was bright, so bright i think me sensor took a little holiday and gave me lemonade.
industrially speaking, most brilliant. no one would be able to survive a zombie infestation here, but dying in nyc vs rotting in mtl is an easy decision.
my return to my new home is only a matter of time – a short time, thankfully. i have plans – waterside plans, gin on the bowery plans [a la magnetic fields], brooklyn plans, and museums and viral public art.
once in a blue moon, you’ll find your soulmate.
i am starting a new blog GIRLS OF BEDLAM – poems for the goofy girl. maybe there’s a market for it. there are countless poems for the goth girl, the punk girl, the exotic girl, the girl next door. for we are none, yet all of these things. and always starting new things as a form of frantic ability.
i resolve to enter that strange tower.
MIND/BODY/LIGHT/SOUND 