Near Matches
Ignore Exact
Everything
2
I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
(
idea
)
by
junkpile
Thu Jul 27 2000 at 21:49:45
I went to Montana to visit Montana. Before he tried to rape me we went to the tourist restaurant with the word Cowboy in its name.
His whole family was there
; it was a welcome dinner for me, and it was Montana's birthday, and it got them out of the house. When they had to be together they were always in public. In public it was easier to pretend to like each other.
There were presents for Montana to open at the table. He was visiting home on vacation from grad school, a grown man unraveling pastel ribbons. His mother described each gift loudly and insisted it be handed round the table and nagged him each time about a
thank-you note
.
His father gave him
a gigantic box of condoms
and guffawed (yes.) in my direction. I ate my steak as if none of this bothered me, but you know how I felt. It was still
the best steak
I have ever had in my life, before or since. It was blackened on the outside and tasted like a campfire, like it had been cooked by someone who knew to
put eggshells in the coffee
. It was perfect and
I was determined to enjoy it and I did.
After dinner but before Montana tried to rape me we went to the bookstore. I remember it felt good when he got bored and left me for magazines. I remember feeling safe in the company of authors.
Montana said Come on lets go already and I said Wait I have to buy this first and
I grabbed a book without looking
and it was Leaves of Grass.
I was not singing myself or celebrating myself.
But I knew I would.
Please tell me everything, this means you, I am hungry and also
Best viewed with any browser
I've given up believing in anything but coffee and fishnet stockings
I want to lose myself in the words or the words of someone else
Be careful where you put your laptop
What I really would like to do is put Everything into a drawer
Coffee etiquette
There are many like it, but this one is mine
The Count of Monte Cristo
This wasn't how it was supposed to be
Waiting for the day all my dreams about myself get tested
The Bardo of American Poets, Patriot and Expatriate
July 11, 2002
I like hearing myself talk. It doesn't matter if you don't understand.
With my head underwater, heart beating in my ears
Easy-peasy coffee chocolate thins
Tired of being angry
Nudist Colony
You need something to put between the dramatic pauses
Being the outsider at a party
I put away childish things, like myself
A conversation I had with myself once
The day I realized what being alive was
Log in
or
register
to write something here or to contact authors.