Monthly Archive for July, 2011

CHILI

Published on July 28, 2011 in Museum of the Weird, Reviews, well anyway later and Zach Dodson. 3 Comments

I’m in Chicago. Last night there was a storm that shook the house and flooded the streets. This afternoon, Zach and I went to yoga and balanced it out by eating a box of shells and cheese with a can of chili in about 45 seconds. I want to barf, but instead I’m going to go to a party at the Poetry Foundation.

well anyway later

FLAT

Published on July 26, 2011 in Museum of the Weird, stories, this judas of a body and THREATS. 2 Comments

My stupid spine. I go to a good anusara class to help fix it but it makes my whole ribcage hurt because you’re supposed to focus on sinking it or opening it or something and just trying to do those things makes my whole body do a slow-motion spit-take. Anyway I’ve got this scoliosis. I am working from bed. I’m like a pissed off adult-age Robert Louis Stevenson, all writing A Child’s Garden of Verses. Please someone get that joke despite its poor quality and reference to children’s literature.

  1. My story “The Heart” is out in Pear Noir 6
  2. Do you ever have a day when all you want is a box of donut holes
  3. I’m working on a story that puts me in such a mood
  4. We almost have a cover for THREATS, just you wait

ALBUQUERQUE

Published on July 7, 2011 in driving. Closed

This place is my soul zone. My pores give up their gunk and my skin tans to the color of a biscuit. I put my wet clothes on the chair behind the house and they’re crisp by early afternoon. The pads of my feet thicken against hot stones. I drink gallons of water and my cells glow. My heart grows arms. I fall asleep inside a sopapilla.

Tonight, my friends and I are going to El Santuario de Chimayó, a destination for pilgrims suffering from handicaps and broken hearts. Here is a picture of their crutch room:

After we collect some of the miracle dirt into a pouch and ask the saints to heal our hearts, we will take a night soak in the arsenic pools of Ojo Caliente. I’ll cover my body in mud, even my face and eyelids and the tips of my ears and my scalp and achilles’ heels, both of them. I’m saying my entire body will become mud, all of this will come to pass and my heart will be healed and my pores will seal and alchemize and I will have metal skin and a guitar riff will sound from the heavens and yea for it will be righteous.

Bad Behavior has blocked 1096 access attempts in the last 7 days.