Jackie O |
(Fuck you Jackie O you bourgeois bitch, there's an o in your name so why isn't it Shaniqua?)*
Jackie O. All summer I was locked inside this building.
Jackie O. I was trying to accompli...
Posted by Linda on Mon, 01 Oct 2007 01:10:00 PST |
This is forever 23. |
I don't know anything about your everyday life. Writing to you is writing to me. My image of you is like a memory of a dream running parallel to your life. It changes and stays the same, the way I ima...
Posted by Linda on Sun, 29 Jul 2007 02:14:00 PST |
notes on polaroids "stacked in piles in corners of my eyes" |
all those things are stowed away in the attic now; cardboard boxes with cardboard boxes with letters with photos with two broken glasses. i move slowly around in our new apartment watching my hands ch...
Posted by Linda on Sun, 29 Jul 2007 11:02:00 PST |
in a minute. if i could. |
yes, despite the salty freshness of boston, so familiar, most of the memories of last summer's trip leaves my bones desiccated, but with my pocket-knife, i could dislocate the few parts - so clean, li...
Posted by Linda on Thu, 18 Jan 2007 01:15:00 PST |
Fuck NYC |
My heart is long distance calls and wires, a voice disappearing and mine.
The words, there are no words, the beat, the beat, the rhythm.
And the day after. Hot streets. New York comes with angry voice...
Posted by Linda on Tue, 03 Oct 2006 02:05:00 PST |
The only love |
The only love I ever known before is the love that comes with pain. This pain. And so I fall in love with you again, more intensely than before. With your back turned away at night, with your back in ...
Posted by Linda on Mon, 24 Jul 2006 10:38:00 PST |
I want to sing |
I want to sing to you in smoke and tangerine light, but everything is so yellow. Its the small things, when you least expect it, dripping trough, following the clustered pattern pumpkin analysis(In no...
Posted by Linda on Mon, 24 Jul 2006 06:48:00 PST |
ultrasonic |
i collect leaves from my dying plants i collect memories in painted boxes i think about the ultrasonic separation cries of small mammals and the songs of the whales and your face standing out in the c...
Posted by Linda on Mon, 28 Nov 2005 06:08:00 PST |
she is so sad... |
she is so sad she thinks drinking beer by herself on a wednesday night on the floor in front of the fireplace where there is no fire she tries to remember what she forgot and forget what she is not an...
Posted by Linda on Fri, 23 Sep 2005 12:03:00 PST |
(these days my love is soft on her eyelids) |
evening sun on dry leaves and i wanted to run because it smelled like you because i dont want to remember a love like that piercing through everything where i was standing on the third floor to the ba...
Posted by Linda on Tue, 20 Sep 2005 12:01:00 PST |
