~Art, artists, museums, reading, WRITING, SOLITUDE, independence, people-watching, real strawberry ice cream, extreme human behaviors, cooking, some girls love shoes I love hand bags, unconsciousness, a dream like state, the midnight hour, bubble wrap, dirty jokes, connecting with people from around the world, gulping down liquor, early morning garage sales, vintage shops, 5, playing peek-a-boo with fat babies, a deep slumber, dancing, carnivals, freak shows, cursing, Las Vegas, photography, the subconscious, fashion, family, jokes, waterfalls, open minded compassionate beings, EVOLUTION, drive-in movies, NON Conformists, Big Red Roses, todo tipo de musica, Luv SUSHI & Luv PIZZA, haunted houses, old homes with creaky wood floors, I would rather wear a pant suit than a mini skirt, Hats, I HATE watching SPORTS but I can tolerate it if I like you, monsoon season, pouring rain & thunderstorms & lightning, windy days, concerts, strong black coffee, pilates, running, yoga, swimming in a cold pool on a hot day, MAKINGLOVE, kissing & affection, gotta have my PORN, the occult, vampires, the BRAIN of a serial killer, a full moon, solar eclipses, the beach, digging my toes in the warm sand, abortion rights, gay rights, Feminism (this DOES NOT mean I hate men dummy!) The Mayan & Aztec civilizations, PINUPART, roller skating, documentaries, little hole in the wall restaurants, foreign films, watching late night slasher films, road trips, yummy fresh fruits, counting sheep on a sleepless night, the opera, fresh fruit smoothies, driving aimlessly, my favorite holiday is Halloween, storytelling, puppies & black cats, MEN, philosophy, architecture, spirituality, psychology, archeology, HISTORY, la Primavera me encanta. Now it's your turn, what do you like?~~~~~~Bonnie & Clyde
Daddy~~~ You do not do, you do not do Any more, black shoe In which I have lived like a foot For thirty years, poor and white, Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.Daddy, I have had to kill you. You died before I had time--- Marble-heavy, a bag full of God, Ghastly statue with one gray toe Big as a Frisco sealAnd a head in the freakish Atlantic Where it pours bean green over blue In the waters off the beautiful Nauset. I used to pray to recover you. Ach, du.In the German tongue, in the Polish town Scraped flat by the roller Of wars, wars, wars. But the name of the town is common. My Polack friend Says there are a dozen or two. So I never could tell where you Put your foot, your root, I never could talk to you. The tongue stuck in my jaw.It stuck in a barb wire snare. Ich, ich, ich, ich, I could hardly speak. I thought every German was you. And the language obsceneAn engine, an engine, Chuffing me off like a Jew. A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen. I began to talk like a Jew. I think I may well be a Jew.The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna Are not very pure or true. With my gypsy ancestress and my weird luck And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack I may be a bit of a Jew.I have always been sacred of you, With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo. And your neat mustache And your Aryan eye, bright blue. Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You----Not God but a swastika So black no sky could squeak through. Every woman adores a Fascist, The boot in the face, the brute Brute heart of a brute like you.You stand at the blackboard, daddy, In the picture I have of you, A cleft in your chin instead of your foot But no less a devil for that, no not Any less the black man whoBit my pretty red heart in two. I was ten when they buried you. At twenty I tried to die And get back, back, back to you. I thought even the bones would do.But they pulled me out of the sack, And they stuck me together with glue. And then I knew what to do. I made a model of you, A man in black with a Meinkampf lookAnd a love of the rack and the screw. And I said I do, I do. So daddy, I'm finally through. The black telephone's off at the root, The voices just can't worm through.If I've killed one man, I've killed two--- The vampire who said he was you And drank my blood for a year, Seven years, if you want to know. Daddy, you can lie back now.There's a stake in your fat black heart And the villagers never liked you. They are dancing and stamping on you. They always knew it was you. Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I'm through. ~~~Sylvia Plath
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