Someone aligned their dreams with mine
Now every raindrop hits its mark
I'll read a book in every park in New York
And call it work

Hello! It's been a while...

I'm doing this soon:

Patrick Kavenaugh

IN MEMORY OF MY MOTHER

I do not think of you lying in the wet clay
Of a Monaghan graveyard; I see
You walking down a lane among the poplars
On your way to the station, or happily

Going to second Mass on a summer Sunday--
You meet me and you say:
'Don't forget to see about the cattle--'
Among your earthiest words the angels stray.

And I think of you walking along a headland
Of green oats in June,
So full of repose, so rich with life--
And I see us meeting at the end of a town

On a fair day by accident, after
The bargains are all made and we can walk
Together through the shops and stalls and markets
Free in the oriental streets of thought.

O you are not lying in the wet clay,
For it is harvest evening now and we
Are piling up the ricks against the moonlight
And you smile up at us -- eternally.

Interview: Padgett Powell (Excerpt)

VH In a lot of your writing there seems to be a dis-ease with women.

PP I’ve heard that before.

VH How do you respond do it?

PP My dis-ease probably comes from my attraction. Writers write about the things that make them uncomfortable—hence the eluctable presence of a “problem” in fiction. And the problem is not just anyone’s, in the best of all possible worlds, it’s one the writer knows something about. That may be the first rule of writing.

VH But it sometimes seems that women are peripheral in your work. Sometimes they’re just not there.

PP Not there? They’re always there!

VH But in somewhat of a problematic way. I can’t help thinking of your story “Flood.” The woman is floating down the river while the narrator maintains a fairly banal conversation.

PP But she’s there.

VH Yeah, but she’s dead.

PP He’s in love with her, goddamnit. And the poet mooning along about his wives, alive and dead—it’s a flood of women, that story. World-stoppers, I submit. And you can’t dismiss the two novels before that. Women are the center of interest, the power source. Does that reflect my dis-ease? I don’t know. But I don’t think you can say they’re not there.

THE WHOLE INTERVIEW IS HERE: http://bombsite.com/issues/55/articles/1955

Theo Parrish For Plastic People

The proverbial suitcase full of money ie. the cure for all evils...

Fernando Pessoa

Ah, the freshness in the face of leaving a task undone!
To be remiss is to be positively out in the country!
What a refuge it is to be completely unreliable!
I can breathe easier now that the appointments are behind me.
I missed them all, through deliberate negligence,
Having waited for the urge to go, which I knew wouldn’t come.
I’m free, and against organized, clothed society.
I’m naked and plunge into the water of my imagination.
It’s too late to be at either of the two meetings where I should have been at the same time,
Deliberately at the same time...
No matter, I’ll stay here dreaming verses and smiling in italics.
This spectator aspect of life is so amusing!
I can’t even light the next cigarette... If it’s an action,
It can wait for me, along with the others, in the non-meeting called life.

Thinking about this lady:

"Certainly we disagree with the Communist Party, as we disagree with other political parties who are trying to maintain the American way of life."

More Sleepy Doug! Damn dude--you're getting too good!

EIGOR by SALGOUD from brian degraw on Vimeo.

Sleepy Doug and Big and Serious! Positive Vibe!

UR--UR--UR

FOR YOU:

THIS BLOG RULES.

http://unchineko.blogspot.com/

Yep.

A Love That Fails To End

8 Years

Yo Natasha!

Happy Friday Nite Girl!

Your Boy,

MB

MIAMI BASEL

I took two photos in Miami--this one right after I got stung by a jellyfish:



And this one of the crummy hotel room Leo and I shared:



We went to cocktail parties:


Check it here.

And I played a show:

JACK ROSE

We toured the West Coast together for a bit in 2007. Had my mind seriously blown the first time I saw him do this one. See ya Jack.