sadhand

let's fuck

the world

I made myself a reasonable cocktail

in a yellow siesta-ware cuppy with a wooden handle

I made my outside bed

as if to suggest company was coming to see my new setup

for only the next two days

I made my permaoutfit on friday

it's the dragon tyedie spaghetti strap

with the skirt with sailboats that look like shark's teeth

and the child pink sandals

and I am longhaired

but I do, honestly, supercare

like I'm the supercaringist ever

but my friend is coming over to tell me about him

and I will shut up for five seconds 

to remember that there are other people

and if I really am the nurturing type

I will hold & love 

if you need to rain out

this 98∘

evening

THANK YOU, 

dear, 

for making the soup

that you won't be here to eat.

You are a Love

& you frustrate me

& make me so angry

and I know I return that on you

but you made me able to not have to do anything

save for write

with a lefthand nailpolish (called Jaded)

and a right hand crumbling nails,

sadhand. 

it's sadder

than the left

chipping paint reminds me

well, doesn't everything remind me?

it reminds me less everyday

but everything does forever remind me.

Of a future I'd invented, I've seen it

Of a past that did actually happen for a second

my weddingring finger is on a happy hand

the decal you put on it the night we met irl

fell off, finally

that one day

that is finally 

awhile ago. Awhile ago helps, doesn't it?

it can, I mean, it should

but I keep making the past so very now, don't I

in classic Molly Merrill Stoddardstyle

D R A MA
       R A MA

this morning I am

I'm the type who puts the caramel in the coffee in secret, and in doses so small the doses are invisible. It's the kitsch outfits all lined up from bottom to top: silver shoes for dancing, soft-shoe style, though I haven't seen it. I get distracted when I think of shoes and end up looking at them for days, and now I have three documents to write about it all. Moss-green tights accidentally bought, footless, and some cheap fake-denim number withe elastic waistband perfect for sitting here & not walking, not moving because I've pain in my uterus, or in my ovaries, where little cysts grow their little houses. I want to move in. And upwards, pictographs, and an indian-head cardigan. Nailpolish remnants like lichen on tips of fingers. Open something else up; wonder who will know about any of it.

Do you see how that went? how in the morning, early like this, drinking the coffee & sitting half-outside, I'm wandering, two eyes different-pointing, directionless. The familiar music, the familiar mood of the familiar mind, doing its memorable thoughtless moves through.

and there you are

(12/2/10)

Dear Diary, today I:

Missed someone, exponentialled my own self sexually, lost two games of cribbage, wound around denver with goals, removed the disgusting lavender nailpolish in front of the grocery, pet labs, drank rollingrocks, & coffee, read a beautiful Nabokov, surprised myself in phonecalls

third day of hanukkah, denver, colorado

In the land, again. The echoes of everything. I have talked about them all, to one another. Their opinions support my defense... but how will I defend? can I, will I? What happened to you?

I know for what reasons I am unwilling. I will never be the continual shoulder, I will never be the shovel with which to  undig. I will defend your honor as long as I've reason to. Will fight & win for proof of loyalty. What will you be?

The good, solid fires, the surprise on a beautiful face, the accepted touchings with meanders, the sunshine and wearing socks & scarfless, the failure of a horrific nailpolish which remains not in memory... The words for other words. I feel proud consistently for achieving such constants of love.

songs for why not

Dear Diary, today I:

Missed someone, exponentialled my own self sexually, lost two games of cribbage, wound around denver with goals, (achieving them!) removed the disgusting lavender nailpolish in front of the grocery, pet labs, drank rollingrocks, & coffee, read a beautiful Nabokov, surprised myself in phonecalls, reminisced, celebrated, ate burritos a million years old, reassessed, reclined, became rejuvenated, loved life, wore my norwegian sweater & canada coat in delicious combination, lamented, made inner promises, reconnected, read Virginia Woolf for the first time, and attempted love for the millionth. Denver is smiling & sunny, and who knows about it all.