it was that day he lost 300 dollars. it wasn't lost, really, it was stolen. from the car window he left open at cherry wood park.
it was that day. we went over to that family italian place, and he ordered mostaccioli to last him the entire week, and bread sticks. the mostaccioli was enough for 15 people. it was in one of those catering tins. and it was expensive too. $45 dollars or something.
he knew the girl at the register from highschool. she rang him up and only charged him $2.05. just for the breadsticks. he turned to look at me smiling when she turned to run his debit card. when he signed for it he signaled to me to follow him out fast.
"she could get fired for that." i said to my feet on the glove box.
"i wasn't the one who rang me up."
it turns out, she did it on purpose. charge him for only the breadsticks, i mean.
a favor for a friend.
26.3.09
25.3.09
the sun rises in aries tomorrow,
march 26, 2009.
it will be an auspicious day for you.
if you get on the road by 3 am the stars will still be in the sky.
i'll put some coffee in my new travel mug. ( it's okay, it's okay. you can keep it.)
i'll get up with you in the early morning, to see you off.
it will be an auspicious day for you.
if you get on the road by 3 am the stars will still be in the sky.
i'll put some coffee in my new travel mug. ( it's okay, it's okay. you can keep it.)
i'll get up with you in the early morning, to see you off.
17.2.09
we were not lucky
to have been born to tend the lava.
we were not lucky to have been born in the land of heat and danger. across the river are perfume trees. across the plains are valleys of flowers and lakes that shine in the sun. but all these for others. all heat for us.
out of the lava grow the berry trees. the branches are to thin to climb, and too sharp to ignore. thorns everywhere. in our hands in our hair. and lava below. but J can get to the berries. he's the smallest. he comes back with bowl-fulls. J gets the berries, i turn them into the salve. we need the salve in the land of heat and danger.
sometimes at sunset when the eyes of the tenders of the land of the perfume trees are filled with sunlight, we approach from the west. we raid the trees. J shakes the branches. we collect the petals and fill our pockets. we flee back to the west, back to the lava. the souls of our feet are black.
even in the trees and on the platform father built, the lava heats us from below. through the cracks between boards our skin blisters. the metal slide gets hot in the sun and our thighs scream. i sell the berries for crab apples.
we were not lucky to have been born in the land of heat and danger. across the river are perfume trees. across the plains are valleys of flowers and lakes that shine in the sun. but all these for others. all heat for us.
out of the lava grow the berry trees. the branches are to thin to climb, and too sharp to ignore. thorns everywhere. in our hands in our hair. and lava below. but J can get to the berries. he's the smallest. he comes back with bowl-fulls. J gets the berries, i turn them into the salve. we need the salve in the land of heat and danger.
sometimes at sunset when the eyes of the tenders of the land of the perfume trees are filled with sunlight, we approach from the west. we raid the trees. J shakes the branches. we collect the petals and fill our pockets. we flee back to the west, back to the lava. the souls of our feet are black.
even in the trees and on the platform father built, the lava heats us from below. through the cracks between boards our skin blisters. the metal slide gets hot in the sun and our thighs scream. i sell the berries for crab apples.
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