I Swear

"It was one of the best waves I ever saw"

They bang everybody.

Ever.

Yeah.

They did that exactly like smashing.

I don't blame

"That was one of the best games I ever saw"

The skits. Something to smell at every moment.
(He grew his beard at the end and
then)

I walked everyday. That was something.

"Give back the biscuit, baby."

Elongated limbs, for once, but the usual dry fingers and slight trouble inhaling and exhaling--I've been told that I should focus more on exhaling, and that this will make inhaling easier and more productive, but I wonder why I couldn't do the opposite and have it work just as well. The lungs can't fill up until they've been emptied and vice versa.

Sore calves--maybe from the hike in the Daley Ranch yesterday? My calves are rarely sore.

SoCal snowblindness
visible happiness & specialized dogs
she spoke Spanish at
Santa Fe train station

Are from

excessive satisfaction

"She's not really happy but" bruiser
Our team won. I saw one really good wave.
I can't really describe it.

Later
Later
Later. Doc.

Hauled out to see or bashed in.

Overwrought echo

her have some more love

ing danse de

Everyone receives greeting

broken

"It is broken" "Thank you!"

I want my retirement funds.

"Doesn't the hummingbird's aggression trouble you?"

Far away speaker phone undefined budget

I am reluctant to disclose my interests

You should not have hired a poet to do a poet's job. He said

The love affair was not an affair, only fashion--

When you stop talking about money I become uncomfortable.

Pirate ship fantasies! I've never loved someone
stupid. I am so smart. Backache sweatpants.

I said happy holidays and she said are you Jewish.
Then she said"what do you know about the 70s?"

California is the 70s. The lake is fake and
now it's polluted.

"Are you riding your bike because you drive
a big gas-guzzling SUV?" He asked. I said
"You are a bad flirt."

Peel off my skin, love,
you can start with my face.

Fuck the energetic young people.

Neighbourly excess fish No recognition
nothing formal more or less clothing

"He likes to work," she said, pouring
the wine into a decanter.

Apparently disposable grandparents.

A student sent me a link to her personal soft core porn site. I'm bragging--she sent it to the whole class.

People make stew Throw things at tigers

I'd rather role model for a parrot

I am vegetarian and would never eat

such things I leave all my money

to my son "Your parrot is like

a fireplace" The new year started

watery "Design is a passion" Surrender

to grace and mindfulness No day will

work: I don't want to see you

I want your financial problems

to be problems

I was upside down and I thought Hey Rod
you need something
a poem
fruit?

Tell me about your feelings then how
you're feeling like they're the
only ones
in the room

When I wrote this that's how it was
It was like that when I read it too

Baking
maybe turn off something
note
treesorchidshumminbbirdfeeder The balcony's
too low for an effective suicide

I don't want to be in my beloved's arms when I die

monkey brain story again it’s an honor

to smash and eat medieval plums from

Asia minor what to speak of at dinner

close your eyes and see visions – you just

have to see them sometimes delight in inhumane

eating perverse adherence to cultural norms

stop telling me the story explain to your

eight year old sister your twenty four year old

coworker babyboomer meltdown

howabout swallow chew watery reproduction

quit falling in love with me carve

an inverted chest to even deeper concaves make

snide pregnant comments I’m female

on purpose I like the dog don’t like

earthy assertions isn’t it brighter in here?

It’s great I said it was great

If you eat human flesh you will be a human. I
hesitated to translate this, sensed tradition.
If, in the process of those standards, exploring hitherto
uncharted personal growth, caught in the
middle, approximately, or early the next morning, well,
I was living with every single human, I
was intimidated by my master, by a
series of renamed calamities. "Food," he replied.
"You people are chicken." We became apathetic.

My mid and lower back aches--it's a combination of the good kind of soreness from going back to yoga after not practicing during my trip, but it's also the sensitive, feverish kind of ache that starts in the skin (not just the muscle) and moves all the way to my bones. I'm either getting sick or this is just menstrual. My PMS and MS "symptoms" are varied and unexpected. When I was in high school I could anticipate things by a definite ache in my hips and lower back (this one mostly in the bones, not the muscles and skin) as well as a cliched craving for chocolate, but now it's much more complicated. In short, it's difficult to know which aches and sensitivities to connect to shifts in hormones, and which don't.

Yesterday evening the water from the tap tasted and smelled moldy.

I'm still congested, mostly on the right side of my sinuses.

This morning we went for a walk around Batiquitos lagoon--it actually rained (it's still raining now!) Rain does sharpen the smells of plants--so the eucalyptus and decaying goldenrod were very strong. A cloudy SoCal sky is unusual--they sky above Batiquitos was filled with high clouds, some from the smoke, and some from the rain. It was both clear and cloudy. It had the sharp contrasts of a desert sky, but with clouds.

I've been sneezing all day. We had lunch in Oceanside. The smoke is still noticeable there, and a few times I smelled it and felt my lungs bunching up. My pressed Cuban sandwich with roast pork and cured ham (and pickles and swiss cheese) was perfect. Not too salty.

For dinner, I roasted a chicken with potatoes, parsnips, onions, and lemons. It started smelling good immediately--a little bit sweet--maybe a combination of the parsnips, onions, and lemons as they caramelized.

I want to change my living space. Rearrange objects.

Since Tuesday, allergies, specifically a stuffy nose, sneezing, tightness in my chest--familiar feelings I associate with DC fall and spring, and also heating. The Santa Annas are almost gone, but I'm still waking up with dry mouth and lungs, again a feeling I associate with dry DC heating, the kind that rats scurry out of. I was going to write "crawl," but I've never seen a rat crawl.

My joints feel like someone poured concrete into them and so my femurs and shoulders are set at odd angles. My left hamstring hurts, and I'm sitting lopsided, leaning to the left.

There was a marine layer this morning, and it's cool. Some of the ash has settled. I could smell smoke on Carlsbad Avenue when I rode home from yoga this morning at 10, but only briefly. I can't smell it here at the apt. on Acacia avenue, where there is almost always a sea breeze.

It was hard to get warm during yoga because we were doing a restorative, gentle practice. But I have trouble moving into restorative poses when I'm cold and feel like my hip sockets are frozen. Several people mentioned that they'd been unable to do much of anything this week except eat and watch TV, but that at the end of each day they were exhausted. I've felt the same way. Being uptight is exhausting. I know that it's just my body naturally contracting and protecting itself, getting ready to run if it needs to.

When I pulled the clothes out of the washing machine, they seemed overly saturated. Too heavy.

Lester is green and a bird; I am a woman and not green though I like to wear green; once I think someone told me that “blondes look good in green.” perhaps it was the 7^th grade teacher but I was not in 7^th grade at the time. Is it true that blondes look good in green? Lately I’ve been wearing more purple, a color I associate with hippie poet peoples; please don’t come in the room during this exercise, I cannot write with someone looking over my shoulder because I always feel like I should not be writing and should instead be working, making money I mean, because writing is working, a speaker is working and newspaper print gets all over my fingers.

Freewriting

Well, go where? We got rid of a box without meaning to but there was nothing left in the box for it to matter. The carpet is terrible and covers a floor that is probably worse. Here we go to the land of parrots and millet, sentimentalizing animals; probably animal otherness is gendered. No I mean that feelings about the relative otherness of animals is gendered. You turn of the light in the room a lot when I am still in here; we often forget where we are and where the other is, even in our case where the other that is each other is so intimate--that we don’t have to relate to similarity, or that what is similar has nothing to do with relating or not relating.