With Soleil Moon Frye at the International House of Pancakes
| Artlessly vague. You’re a cynic.
Dream-doll in your pigtails and freckles, eye-liner and high-goth black lipstick (lipstick) you dress like an adult version of yourself. And I–I’m an adult version of myself too. Mannequin- man, accordion man, ostrich man with bionic suit and power tie. Now we’re both actual, paying customers. The waitress, when she sees us she says, let me begin by saying how nice it is to meet you. She brings us our plates. She hums into her apron, humming how much, how much will they give me? |
To paraphrase: the menu. Stuck under
the dandelion’s right foot. Houseling the glands and teeth and hair (and teenage wisdom) within us until the breath went out of us; we became human. Didn’t you feel it: swimming alone in the porch- light, camped out under the trees? Now there is an eerie glow where our eyes used to be. Now we’re zombies; now we’ve no heads. The real thought of a therapist isn’t helpful. Houdini? That park is thick with liars. And they are more brutish, more than happy to give us answers. No No. No No No. |
and forgot to ask: are you receiving my mail?
got it. thx.
that’s weird about the font. i’ve noticed it on my work pc too (tho it looks fine at home). maybe there is something i can change in the css so that it’s more consistent.
long lasting lipstick…
lipstick…
Ok that was pretty interesting, for spam.
“In 1924 the new York Board of Heath gave consideration to banning lipstick because they feared it would poison the men who kissed the women who wore it.”
I like the new clothes of your blog, David, and like what you are doing.
“you dress like an adult
version of yourself”
yeah, how right!
The side bar items, though, are so small that I had to wear two pairs of glasses ( to post my comment,too).