February 2012
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thinking about starting my own agency
afterall, im really good at what I do.
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IV
As it turns out, nights turn from utter boredom to smaller boredoms. The basics remain the same: my companions are older, often married, established businessmen sometimes on holiday, sometimes desiring a jewel-encrusted hinnie to sport on their Bulgari arms, but mostly just lonely. I spend more time talking about life and death and feminism post-Woolf while eating venison and catching angry glares...
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listening to the beach boys missing cali
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untitled atm.
When I was a child I was afraid of the world.
Not the realm of the wild (unmolested and free)
or the sunflower fields that grounded my dreams,
but of man and his metal (one profits, one schemes);
of humanity and destruction (one follows, one leads).
When I was a recluse I was afraid of my mind,
or of knowledge, or memory; the strength of my lock.
The security of my key was threatened by...
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undercover cops are despicable
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my horoscope and reading was so spot on today it's...
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“Let those with morals worry about morality”
– Sean Patrick Flannery
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cheese: milk that you chew
crackers: because cheese needs a buddy
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“To define is to limit.”
– Oscar Wilde (via elige)
fugitiveweb asked: Send some fiction to our tumblr lit mag!
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sixty five roses...
When I open the door to my apartment, Jessica is here with Andrew.
There yarrrr, she slurs as she stirs a pot of borsch, Ummmmakin dinner.
I can see that. Stop pouring Jack into it.
Andrew is sprawled out on the couch. He coughs and strings of swamp green mucus spray over the carpet like a Jackson Pollack painting. Jessica pretends to concentrate on the dark red, coagulated contents of the pot...
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I decide to become independent when I realize that half commission goes to the agency and part of the tip goes to M, who remains as my driver despite his proclivity to announce his attachment to me often and loudly. As we haven’t slept in the same bed for months, this makes me laugh and him all the more pissed off.
at first, I am nervous. Can I get my own clients and become successful? Or...
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so painful to see the pats lose to ny.
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III
shifts are 7PM to 5AM, so at six I put on lace lingerie under my dress and straighten my hair. I make my face do that thing it does; a face that looks alien, and that’s just how I like it. When I drive my shitty Volvo (“Vulva”, as I adoringly refer to her) to wherever I am sent, I don’t want a door to open to me, I want it to open to Miss Milona, the Russian exchange...
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sonnets by Wheeler
14
He has a red memory of the Calderstones, a stone circle in the rain, no, under glass, and quizzes the locals ’til we find them. Some recollections have bones, gritty mass that you could touch if they would let you. Others are thin, a fog on the river that a prow might cut through, only to perish or blur again. Under those clouds, sandstone shows everywhere: the back stoops, grooved from...
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nine hour graveyard shift tonight...
thank satan for starbucks.
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