Stick-up!

Portland? Portland.

2007-08-18T00:38:18Z

I've moved! Inquire within for new blog address.

I've also moved my body, my boyfriend, and all my stuff to PORTLAND, OREGON. I have no job, no apartment, and no idea what I'm doing, but apparently you can drink beer in the movie theaters, so I think I might stay.

A Reflective and Bittersweet Entry on the End of 5 Years of Higher Education

2005-05-04T20:59:27Z

NO MORE CLASSES
NO MORE BOOKS
NO MORE TEACHERS' DIRTY LOOKS

a_mandy @ 2005-04-26T07:02:00

2005-04-26T04:59:43Z

Misery and Splendor

Summoned by conscious recollection, she
would be smiling, they might be in a kitchen talking,
before or after dinner. But they are in this other room,
The window has many small panes, and they are on a couch
embracing. He holds her as tightly
as he can, she buries herself in his body.
Morning, maybe it is evening, light
is flowing through the room. Outside,
the day is slowly succeeded by night,
succeeded by day. The process wobbles wildly
and accelerates: weeks, months, years. The light in the
room
does not change, so it is plain what is happening.
They are trying to become one creature,
and something will not have it. They are tender
with each other, afraid
their brief, sharp cries will reconcile them to the moment
when they fall away again. So they rub against each other,
their mouths dry, then wet, then dry.
They feel themselves at the center of a powerful
and baffled will. They feel
they are an almost animal
washed up on the shore of a world--
or huddled up against the gate of a garden--
to which they can't admit they can never be admitted.

--Robert Hass

a_mandy @ 2004-11-17T23:17:00

2004-11-18T05:20:28Z

Recommended for me today on Amazon.com:

Philips HeartStart Home Automated Defibrillator.

It's like they read my mind!

!!!!!!!

2004-09-13T01:35:50Z

13 Piercings and Still Not Punctured

Youth, how wonderful to sit with you
in the cafeteria, you make Shiva
look like an amputee. I like this jelly,
I say, how they left in the seeds.
Yeah! you pop, and the fact it's flying
at such high speed! Youth, to be with you
is to drive the interstate without a windshield.
No wonder you can hardly stay in your clothes
and therefore wear almost none. I doubt
it's possible there's a death's head
under all that phosphorescent flesh
glued over an anti-gravitational fuselage
sponge-side down. Even in the classroom,
you're alpine skiing, spectacular wipeouts
even reading Wordsworth: proof he smoked
dope, plagiarized Tennyson, his dependence
on recollection really on forgetting.
Youth, your brain is more hand grenade
than a sack of scholastic slugs, tattoo
barbed wire circles on your bicep, eith notes
hone in on your honeyed crotch, even
your barrette shouts, Get out of my way!
How is it possible for you to fall apart
every hour but still hop up for curtain calls?
Youth, I remember when I was always late
because I had so much time. You were waiting
then you hurried on.

--Dean Young