beijo, humanidade!
12-15-2007

pois e, hoje fiquei triste com a humanidade...
vi uma pessoa amiga ignorar completamente uma
mulher igualzinha a mim,
por que ela e preta - na pele
ela tem um sorriso bonito
uns olhos expectativos e francos
e no entanto, foi recebida com - na melhor de todas as hipoteses - frieza
na realidade com total ausencia... mais que frieza, foi tipo " voce nao existe...."
uma pena...
so que uma pena grande
pena de desfile de carnaval
pena de putaquepariu
pena de porre em calcada de sao paulo as tres da manha
pena de querer ser gorda em pais de magros
sabe como e?
e por mais que tenha agradado e sido gentil de minha parte
foi como quando a gente e assaltado: um cara tira 200 dolares da gaveta da gente e mesmo que a gente
tenha mais no banco ou na carteira, sempre fica o vazio da violacao....
foi isso amizade: violando a minha doce humanidade na pessoa bonita de uma mulher negra...
por isso, beijo na sua testa humanidade, espero que nao passes frio hoje a noite, pois esta chovendo

Bastille
07-14-2007

il est souvant que je pense a la bastille. Sanglot et larmes pour la liberte.... la liberte n'est pas q'une chimere. on n'est pas completement libre - mais oui on a des moments de liberte. la liberte de s'en aller a n'importe ou n'est pa la meme chose que la liberte de nous amour. L'amour est una forme d'esclavage. Voluntaire, bien sur, mais esclavage bien sur... alors, vive la liberte limitee, le 14 Juillet....

porcelain hat and rain
07-13-2007

rain could not, absolutely not, get your head wet should you be wearing a porcelain yarmulke. my upsidedown blueberry (or cherries?) bowl would be perfect. I tried it.Driving down Shoofly, jingling coins and loud ac.
That's the problem with hats, which I adore: they get wet in the rain.

of singing and century
07-13-2007

Let's say what is happening today...like music.. like singing with Deborah just about lunch time... when I get older... will you still need me, will you still feed me... which I murder in the pronunciation of the will you.. everytime... but nobody seems to notice... well it is just wundebar when you can call your friend and sing almost offkey a couple of different great poetry lines of a 20th century that's zoomed faster and faster until it ended... and then this one began: like there is no other way. It is more difficult to sing with Deborah over the phone than to do so in person while Tim dies laughing. I'm positively happy when I sing and yet I would not want to be a singer and have to get paid for it. Maybe like you may like to make love but don't want to have to perform love. It would be enough to drive anyone into wanting to die or sleep forever or go to jail. So I'll keep on remembering parts of great music and I'll keep singing it to myself while I tap my foot at the bottom of the wet bathtub with a thump that's just great and when people hear me and say nice things of what could have been I just shmile and shmile to meself inside of my heart and know that I would not perform: song or love.

not first
07-11-2007

One minute of not having to rush through millions of tasks. As if by movement alone I could keep it all together. So said Deborah. What does she know. Except for.
Having a desire that this would not be so public. Will see how it pans out.
Starting today a new painting: bipolar writings with rhino and head. It is difficult. Almost as much as the one of Katja in the cold picture. But I gotta do it.