post-post

i think i finally might be #winning over this sore throat/body pain sickness that's been with me for the past week.

story tomorrow (if true).

at one in the morning

i am very tired after throwing up tums and pilsner this morning and then finally growing a pair and getting a really good breakfast sandwich and smoking a joint at ft. greene park with a bunch of desperados my apartment smells a combination of peanut shells top rolling tobacco malt liquor and this wild air freshener from my aunt that smells like the forest so i am in a forest of cigarette butts and empty cans of hurricane BRACE FOR THE SMOOTH TASTE my rug now sticks to the wood floor and i have no idea how i am going to scrape little foam bits off the wood when i have to roll up this rug at the end of the summer WHY do i have a white fucking rug in the first place i need an oriental one because this rug keeps on getting darker and you could probably roll a sizable joint with the marijuana clippings stuck in the pile

anyhow i must go to sleep and wake up and read wallace stevens and write a poem about a place i loved when i was younger ain't life grand

(that is not an intended WSP reference for those of you who may have just chuckled)

and holy shit i ate so much macaroni and cheese this weekend i think i will turn into a noodle soon

also that new box above the archived posts on the right hand side is a link to my rym page which is just another dumb way of me making subjective things objective and numerical and pointless but if anything and given my bias and or aesthetic leanings you can at least see what i really like and what i really hate and what i'm listening to now and what's been good this year so far or what was good in say 1967 and of course the most best pressing question of all time the one that god asked on a sunday night much like this one before he whittled the dick on ol' adam and carved the tits on ol' eve:

WHAT IS GOOD MUSIC TO LISTEN TO?

got all that? k

so here's the sunday night jawn all you kids and mavericks keep it real all week i'm gonna be busy and then on thursday i'm gonna be over in the ROC (rochester for all y'all not in the new york know frame of mind type nah mean)


cheers hillbillies
skratch

advice/observation

"It is a major downside of my chosen method of travel that I too am only ever passing through. I am constantly amongst strangers and never really get to know a place. It is like an extended wine-tasting tour without the pleasures and pitfalls of ever submerging your head and drinking one entire barrel."

-Al Humphreys

just an observation

The American Museum of Natural History sucks.

At least it's a suggested donation.


More to come later this week, sort of busy now.

-skratch

life lesson vignette #3

3) Never trust someone who sleeps in their socks.*

*unless they are an Eskimo



download (http://www.mediafire.com/?bzzdgz3dht1)
Enjoy, and cheers-

po-eh-tree

Check out this lovely poem by Ms. Garrison:

'She Thinks of Him on Her Birthday' (Deborah Garrison)

It's still winter,
and still I don't know you
anymore, and you don't know

me. But this morning I stand
in the kitchen with the illusion,
peeling a clementine. Each piece

snaps like the nickname for a girl,
the tinny bite it was
to be one once. Again I count

your daughters and find myself in the middle,
the waist of the hourglass,
endlessly passed through and passed through

but holding nothing, dismayed
by the grubby February sun
I was born under and the cheap pleasure

it gives the window. Yet I raise the shade
for it, and try not to feel it is wrong
to want spring, to be a season

further from you—not wrong to wish
for a hard rain, a hard wind
like one we sat out in together
or came in from together.

rip it up

let's go out for some booze: