Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Last haiku

Long awaited, she
Marked in captive bonds her red;
Decided to stay

Monday, December 11, 2006

you look more and more like her everyday

Why can’t the caring be the question?

Damnit, why won’t you pick up your phone? I’m cutting myself with knives.

I’ll meet you down there.
This place makes the best milk tea. I wonder why I like this place so much.
Why do they have to ask why all the time? Why can’t they say, let’s listen to some opera?
Why isn’t listening to opera enough?
A real book about bread doesn’t get to the recipes until page 352.

Costa Diva is the most beautiful song in the world. I’m going away now, and I’m not sorry.
I don’t trust psychiatrists. They’re all crazy. I think they want me to fix them.
Why did they put me in restraints? I just wanted to go home.
It was the pain in their faces.
Where should we go for lunch?

You need a haircut.
There are no ground rules.
Kathleen Ferrier just opened her mouth and sang. You can check on the cover.
I understand it all through practice. Can you hear the Italian?
I’ve been living a lie.
I think email gets in the way of real communication.
Do you care?

Do you want to know why I can’t take care of them right now?
It was August 15, 2001, and I said, we’re going to move you into school.
What can I do to make you feel less worried?
I’m smarter than all of them.
My dress was so short I couldn’t sit down.
You should marry him when he grows up.
They didn’t even find the other bandages.
Cutting yourself doesn’t hurt at all.
Little girls just like you.
Tony Schipa is the greatest singer, and Buehler genuinely sucks.
Violetta, thank you.
Do you remember her from nursery school?
She was glad to see me too.

Listen.
I think we’re all in here, in one form or another.
My whole life is in this book. You can substitute for everything except baking powder.
It was the small knife, the cheap one. I think I used it to cut vegetables.
It’s easy, you just take all 55 pills at once.
The babies really love me.

Blood is an excellent media for writing.
A liquid, but not a liquid.
It dries slowly, but not too slowly.
You can wipe it off if you don’t want to make a mess.

If I were any happier I would pop and make a big mess but I would cleanit up so can I stick around?