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the usual triteness

- HAPPY BIRTHDAY AL black out like I did! good times!

-

"Anthonio"- Annie...still not sure how I feel about this. not one of my favorites of hers ("Heartbeat" turns me into a weepy mess, go figure) there's apparently some kind of backstory to this song. a tryst in Brazil. MY BABY HAS YOUR EYES. when is "Don't Stop" coming out, dear Annie? my dick is navy blue for this album. stop it, you Norwegian cocktease.

- Kylie Minogue is supposedly engaged to her model beau.



Andres? anyway, they're a cute couple and I don't think things like that, SO. good for them! she deserves it. he deserves it. Kylie is about to embark on her first stateside tour....I don't know why she isn't more popular over here. certainly better than Taylor Swift or whatever shit other people are listening to. but I rather listen to Annie anyday.

lastly, I dreamt I bought a book of poetry by Pablo Neruda. weird?
"Love For This Book"


In these lonely regions I have been powerful
in the same way as a cheerful tool
or like untrammeled grass which lets loose its seed
or like a dog rolling around in the dew.
Matilde, time will pass wearing out and burning
another skin, other fingernails, other eyes, and then
the algae that lashed our wild rocks,
the waves that unceasingly construct their own whiteness,
all will be firm without us,
all will be ready for the new days,
which will not know our destiny.

What do we leave here but the lost cry
of the seabird, in the sand of winter, in the gusts of wind
that cut our faces and kept us
erect in the light of purity,
as in the heart of an illustrious star?

What do we leave, living like a nest
of surly birds, alive, among the thickets
or static, perched on the frigid cliffs?
So then, if living was nothing more than anticipating
the earth, this soil and its harshness,
deliver me, my love, from not doing my duty, and help me
return to my place beneath the hungry earth.

We asked the ocean for its rose,
its open star, its bitter contact,
and to the overburdened, to the fellow human being, to the wounded
we gave the freedom gathered in the wind.
It's late now. Perhaps
it was only a long day the color of honey and blue,
perhaps only a night, like the eyelid
of a grave look that encompassed
the measure of the sea that surrounded us,
and in this territory we found only a kiss,
only ungraspable love that will remain here
wandering among the sea foam and roots.


I am reading some of my own poetry tonight at a coffeeshop in Girard. I think. after work. providing I am not dead.

have a good Tuesday!

- Brittany

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