your thoughts & gilbert is a hamster

your thoughts about other people's thoughts about you
are not important, jarva

at least not real enough to live in & why
should you be seeing maria looking down & sideways & across at you

full of disappointment

when she isn't even there
& you could call her on the phone

but you don't , do you---
lets focus on the real issues.

if you think about it

gilbert lost a leg because you imagined him to be fine
& he wasn't,

(while on the other 3 hand-like feet you thought he had wet tail & was going to die
within 72 hours) but he doesn't & he didn't die

because you found him & you cared for him

(through all this) discovering the quantum level,
where you dreamed your father in the kitchen putting gilbert into a small trash can

and in the dream you got there in time to save him from this awful fate-

& in the waking life your father almost banned gilbert from the house
& you thought you were safe & that this was the dreams premonition

coming up
& blowing over

but then you went away for maybe 4 days and nobody told you
that gilbert was missing & you assumed he was fine & then

you came back and found him
half dead in the plastic blue trash bin next to his cage

(where you hate to leave him)
\
which he must have escaped from & by some freak accident
or predestined event, landed in the empty bin

& his tail was wet from urine, his back leg was missing still
& all the horrors of your mind roared & your dreams were fevered nightmares

of black hamsters growing blacker & smaller in the corner of some dark lit den
but these dreams weren't real & did not come true

because you nursed & fed & cared for him the best you could
& he survived

& this is the important thing, jarva,

more than the imagining.

*leaked*not another depressing rap song *JARVALAND*

the OCCUPY MARS coffee cup has peeeled off at the 'OC'

there's a rotary phone with a sticker depicting neon colored troll dolls sitting on a stack of papers

in a basket

to my right. "the seven good years of egor keret" written in cursive under a drawing

on line paper of my face

in a block shaped notebook.

these are my mother's things.

i am trying to occupy mars.

There is no nothing.

There is no nothing.

Or everything is nothing   (in the same way)

Here I stand,

wavering between the two.

two girls sitting

"but so YOU think it was too much egg... or that's HOW you would die from something LIKE that...

"Hello" (guy)

"Hello" (Sarah Silverman)

"This is my friend Sarah"

"Hi Sarah"

"My name's Sarah Silverman"

"OK"

I just feel like I can't see subjectively...you know?

Like, I can only see everything OBJECTIVELY, you know?

Like, I see everything as it is for everyone but me, you know?

I'm just so SENSITIVE to all these FEELINGS and INTERACTIONS

and I'm just, like, trying to CLARIFY them for other PEOPLE constantly... you know?

Hello...? Are you there? HELLO!?!

costa rica is closing their zoos today

cold cold heart

My mother bore me by the virtue of never taking anything too seriously-- save for the ridiculous -- and in this it was her talent to behave most comically in anger and sadness and to relieve us of the fear of such moods taking shape as the big truth. (The big truth being that lumbering giant who goades and pushes at our sides and shoves our jeans up to the calf to say the ankles hairy and everyone knows it)

As it hangs

As long as you are alive, I think--- There
is the Possibility. And happiness waits for no man
but me. Like the arc of a slow dive that goes on
curving for years toward the surface of this
& reaching the water, finds it is a fish, afterall---
This is my life

idea- craigslist hijacker puts up want ad for someone to teach him to drive their car aka let me kidnap you

what is love but

what is love but one lizard trying to catch the other?

the other one, darting away

the glimpse of

the curve of

a tail. the thought of all those little lizard feet.

its enough to make me cry, daddy.

wear am i going to go with a lizard

wearing these shoes, my boa constrictor belt

made in Turkey by orphans

and love-starved slaves. Where have I seen them before?

All with their heads down, those limp bandanas they wore

wrapped around their heads

they held up their heads,

the snow caps in the background glistening.

show me the winter lizard.

i do not believe he exists.

//////////

show me the winter lizard


I do not believe it exists,

the snowcaps in the background,

their held up heads

those limp bandanas they wore,

those love starved ones-

Where have I seen them before?

Maybe in Turkey. Orphans,

wearing boa constrictor shoes.

Where am I going to go with a Lizard?

Its enough to make me cry, daddy.

the tail, all those little lizard feet.

the curve of

the glimpse of

the other one, darting away.

midnight in paris

The minute I knew he was going to leave, it changed everything. Where I had at first thought longingly of being awake and alone in the apartment, I had suddenly turned attached to the arm of his jacket. These are hard shoes to walk in. Elephant shoes. Now I am on the porch and alone, the neighbor I saw in the kitchen is gone. There is only the lingering chirp of the late night college students two floors above. And I must be talking to the bannister.

MFA/1136380/3173268

fran lebowitz

This is racism pure and simple. It is not hard to figure this out, and we now live in an environment where it is worse to call someone a racist than it is to be one.

excerpt fran lebowitz interview

The war era?
Right. Every English person that age, always the first thing they tell you is they talk about rationing and what they’re talking about is rationing of candy because they were children. This never leaves them. You would think they were survivors of Auschwitz, you know? "We only got this much candy ever!" I love Nick Tosches as a writer. I think he’s a fantastic writer and he would always be a great choice, I think, but he’s not English so maybe it’s better to have an English person.

Are you still playing drums?

the day i meet fran leibowitz

fran leibowitz said to me, "you're young, you'll come up with someone better" to qualify, i said "it cant be too important" and she said to me "thats why its dangerous...its better to say "they evaporated off the face of the earth". it was something cliff peacock would say. Or Nick Nolte in the short film in New York Stories which is not directed by Woody Allen, but by somebody else. Fran says she has never met Woody Allen...she says "you think thats an accident? She has the kindest saddest eyes, such a dark blue. She is smaller, as we all are, in real life. A friend once told me I was smaller in real life. And he'd only ever seen me in real life. Is it no accident the hardest thing in the world for us to do is sit in one place and not eat or drink or read or speak?