icy

cold blooded animal

cold hearted bitch

bad circulation

my neighbour

is watching me drink tea naked in the kitchen

but i will put clothes on to do laundry

it is winter

and i will become whatever i am meant to become

trouble

everyone is trouble except for me

i mean i am troubled especially

there is nothing i doubt less

nothing left intuitively

appearances

they do deceive me

and business talks

honesty

if i could be totally honest with myself

and then you would not hurt me

i couldn't look into your eyes and lie

i could not i would rather die

if i could look into myself you would not

you would not be able to

see me

some kind of woman

i remember putting on this dress in montreal with a pair of 50s black suede stilettos and thinking to myself, "i have no date tonight". what a woman. what an evil kind of woman.

notes

nice sunset

you love it when the clouds break

i was not invited

professional dry cleaning only

needless to say she's happy

the cast iron keeps warm for 11 minutes

but you did not eat a thing

no, sweetheart

you did not eat a thing

shallow curiosity

how can you be this beautiful??????

writers block/portrait of a woman

newspaper folded in lap, head back, relaxed jaw, heavy silent breathing, slicked back ponytail, fleece winter jacket, construction company, dry, wrinkled hands, skinny legs, boxed torso, big teeth, snoring, snoring, snoring, fragile hands holding, computer technician, customer service agent, website designer, entirely unflattering glasses, bemused reaction, no children, no husband, no vices

a thousand times, a million methods, mother nature, a flaccid entrance, an easy exit, a nonchalance, your dry skin winter, a schizophrenic, an army, a desire, a man, a face, a child, a father, a yearning, unlearning, practice down, throw a ball, eat a lemon, bad luck, many chances, pushing karma, stealing fate, don't be late again, lose your job, watch you smile, tell a joke, heart murmer, earth shatter, quaking, hair on ends, wrinkles, cellulite, tallness as a vice, fat, obesity, wretched eating, gluttony, gluttony as a virtue, repulsive, disgusting, victorian immoral, eradicating wealth, sores, brittle nails, making love, dessert, my virginity, pushing around, punching, verbalize what, anything, what am i doing, who are you, lover, lover, lover of earth, mother of nature, healer, psychic, shaman, save me, don't remorse, i know nothing, i am a child, what do you want, i can't help you, do anything, or can i, just relax, please mother, stop smoking, tea-drinking, illness, illness, illness, illness

junk

is heroin and garbage

junkie is a feeling

feeling vulnerable

dig in

dig into me

lets deep in the valley

eat deer grazes meadow

roll canola fields flowering

your heart is showing itself to me

11

check in with me later

you could check in with me anytime

i don't mind

two days through ontario i dreamt of you

it was all surreal

you could check in anytime and inquire

i am probably not doing well

i don't mind

i am unstable

you could call me on the telephone or send me an e-mail

it would be nice to hear from you

i wouldn't mind at all if you dropped me a line

you could say hello and hang up the phone

or remain a secret and dial *69

you could check in with me anytime

any way at all is fine with me

i don't mind

this is all unreal

in the land of living skies

the prairies are flatlands

driving through manitoba is flat, man

you can drive straight for days through the prairies

saskatchewan too

you might go mad

all yellow and green and brown

don't you get sad now

we're almost there

we'll be there sometime soon

some high noon

over the mountaintops in the foothills of alberta

then we'll really be free

we'll really be free in the mountains on the western side

don't fall asleep yet

its best you stay awake

don't fall asleep little one

i love you so you could die

don't you fall asleep now

open your eyes

we're almost there

we'll be there in a day or two

once we get through the badlands in the prairies

winnipeg is an awful place, i know

its gone now and we'll never go back there again

canola fields are rolling on for miles

with sunflowers and pine trees and wild cattle

its lonely and dry in the prairies but everyone is friendly

everyone's a real cowboy now

where's your horse

don't mention south dakota yet

there's a lightning storm here every night

it could strike and kill at any time

you could mill a billion acres of wheat in the prairies

there's nothing stopping you

you could do anything at all

why don't you pull over and smell the trees

why don't you pull over and feel the breeze

here in the prairies you could do anything at all

you could sow a million sunflowers and press one bottle of oil

you could raise your arms to the sky and kneel and cry

you could run across a thousand stacks of hay

or hop on a tractor and sleep in a barrel

thank god we're almost out of manitoba

i'm starting to go mad

self-portrait

the delicacy of my irish skin

and the darkness of my sicilian soul

surfaces

sleepwalking

on the outside looking in

give me a sign

anything at all

psyche

i am reading your mind

right now all the time

every minute

love me love me love me love me

hedonism

pleasure is the end, yeah?

change of plans

i am going to buy the best korg and make electronic music all winter

pick fruit in british columbia until i can buy property up north

how many drug studies does it take?

4.

well

i guess you don't love me back

but i guess i knew that

everything is going to be ok

everything is going to be ok

everything is going to be ok

everything is going to be ok

my heart is pounding out of my chest

maybe it will break some ribs

and bleed all over your lovely face

baby please

i'm on my knees

sand dunes

i'm suffering a great depression

placid people aren't

but i'm not on the pill anymore

cozy bay of dreams and palm trees

still water, still born

close your eyes

i'm waiting for anyone else

i just need to leave now

but how can i take everything with me

or need, expendable dream

a single moment could surpass all these years

this long mirage

oh, desert

save our misguided souls

letting off some steam

in this cool summer breeze

big brother is watching you

hey toronto, can you hear that?

big brother is watching me too

manic thoughts

i will ravage some man tonight with this pent-up sexual aggression i will ravage him and forget about you forever. blood boiling artery choking dehabilitating life-supporting schizophrenia. ether-infused helium balloons will make your entire body float, including your soul, your ego and your shadow. everything else will sink around you and scream and shout and drown. blood boiling vein popping forehead stew mashed organs with a side of you. i will ravage some man tonight because i hate you so much right now. i will eat him alive and bury him too. the fucking bastard. celibate mourning i am in grief that is why i am dressed in black. i cut my bangs because you brushed them out of my eyes. blood boiling oxygen pumping lung-drying foaming rabies, tuberculosis or meningitis, HIV/aids. you have it all you filthy bastard. i will ravage some man tonight and give him all your nasty diseases it will bury him fast. death i love so much, more than anything. it is the only thing i patiently await as i scurry around earth pushing idle ideas and doing-nothings. while i yell at you for no goddamn reason. what the fuck do i care you filthy disease-ridden child-eating chauvinist bastard. you monster oh you monster. i hate you so much i will ravage some man tonight in every possible way and i do not care who he is. he is not you that's all that matters. never will be, true. i hate you so much right now i could slit open every vein in my body and laugh hysterically as i bled to death. i would devise a way to self-tape VHS mail it to you that would bury you alright. you don't want me fine i'll ravage mine tonight. there is nothing good about you anyway except for your cock, it is the only part of you that is not tainted by some irreversible, repulsive, deformed imperfection. nothing superficial obvious just an inherent ugliness of being. i am repulsive outright, so much that my being, which is repugnant, becomes beautiful in comparison. isn't that wonderful? life's mercy they say. you self-depricating clinical asylum prescription psychopath, jump off a fucking bridge why dont you and get it over with. handgun-loaded ejaculation street walking whore shoot me now and fill me with your bath-warm gooeyness grey translucent bitter fluid. blood blood blood blood cum all over me release my veins from this hyena existing.

04/10

everything is bruising my legs

especially fucking you tonight

now

anyway you are a fucking disease

you are absolutely just the worst

you're a fucking goon you know what else?

i'm sick of your bullshit i hope you can hear that!

you vampire oh you monster oh youuuuu-whooooo

you eat away the child-skin of everyone you meet

you peel it up lean back and laugh and yum yum you eat it up

you rape and kill them all you even drink their blood!

you jade them all blind with piercing whiteness

its just your fucking darkness!

can everyone here today even believe that!?

i was just dissolving at your fingertips

into a sandglass for tapping and safekeeping

i hope you can hear me now!

now i'm hahaha i'm laughing now!

ha-ha-ha

ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!

all the way,

wait - where are we going?

since november

i should have known better

this young summer

i really feel a tourist in

i figured

you'd want me to be in love with you before i left

some bullshit

blah blah blah blah blah blah blah

i want people to say things about me like

"she cleans up real nice"

real genius

i am writing

a semi-fictional diary

a pseudo-autobiography of sorts

yes, "a philosophic exploitation of experience"

a dramatic playing-out of non-theatre (you, my audience, and circumstance)

i am finding it harder and harder to differentiate truth and creation. harmless lies or emotional over-exaggerations? my swinging moods and fervent imagination. meaningful and meaningless, all flowing out of the same source.

oh ganga mia! how i must return to your threshold in the rolling green artichoke-heart of those silencing himalayas.

stitch them shut!

pure perfect karma

everything is exacting

don't forget baby suri / stockholm syndrome revisited

everyday this will become easier. i have not done anything to deserve this. my life was perfectly happy and healthy without you. being alone is ok. i am a strong, beautiful woman. you do not define my relationships. 11 years in august, but hardly a blink of an eye when you think about it. you treat me with the disdain of someone who offended you yesterday. my heart breaks for you. but i won't shed another tear. i should have dropped you forever in high school. this will all fade away and be forgotten soon. you are a dying memory now. a baggy-eyed sheet of a ghost. learning, i am embarrassed by my own naivety.

yes

i know you don't know what to say

this is all really emotional

plus the things i say are pretty irrational

sometimes intensely nerve-wracking and forgive me, impulsive

you know how i feel right

i could be the mother of your children

in recurring dreams i am

you would be the perfect husband in an ideal world

under ideal circumstances that will undoubtedly never arise

couldn't be so fortunate, too easy

we'll marry wrong and end up miserable

divorced with three ugly complacent children

some awful, heart-wrenching settlement

his affair, yours or mine

maybe a suicide for good measure

all kinds of healthy mistrust and loving resentment

those kinds of life-shattering mistakes you only see in films noir

they actually happen to people like you and me

you know what i mean right

you know how i feel?

it could happen to us if we aren't careful

after all, "it is sweeter now that you have tasted it too"

04/27

trash

i deeply regret the past five months of my life.

oh boy

ohhhhhh boy

halle lalla luja

the air smells so sweet and sticky it is going to rain. humid enough to get soaked on my bike and come home with baby soft hair and take a nap.

child hoods

laneways parked cars my only maltese brother ethnic novelty of our whitewashed town un-like our respective motherlands holding hands in connaught park still nervous kissing always nail-biting sneaking out late at night to drink a bottle of my father's homemade vino rosso hands down each other's pants running panting learning how to inhale battling my poor mother's psychotic behaviour suspensions followed stinking of cigarettes and hash oil kleptomaniac stealing absolutely anything the streets i slowly remember aberdeen my old basketball team touring southern ontario starting line got good grades made daddy proud what a brilliant shining star everything i produced you raved ms. mckeown i cannot recall if you were married faked id your older sister shared my freckled name threw those pig-patrolled parties gave up sport for sex and drugs partying is still exercise right social work-out thought i was unstoppable invincible fiercely intimidating self-depricating tendencies least apparent in youth "nothing resonates with you" little devil i was and angel at once hence i had many loves forever young and spirit-lasting feet tapping fingers snapping cream in his 69 dodge challenger hemi turbo custom leather whatever tanned-black-lustrous-sun-shining-curly-haired-trim-mustached-ray-banned-suave-smoking greek god "dionysus" my father's only true love haunts him like my mother's fainting smile the one that glimmers in me time to time of course margaret killed herself left the kids behind the other one floated away too freak car accident should have been my mother. bad luck with women he always said i came out of the womb dancing. everything is flooding back to me now, near distant past, the future is present: looming, dooming, ruing, ensuing. i will die in a self-proclaimed apocalypse of feeling.

deep in thought / you are making some noises

stories are fun to tell.
i should have become an actor.
you must think i am dramatic!
really i am
enigmatic.

promise.

feeling finicky

confusing feeeeeelings
eee i don't know what to do
i feeeel so overwhelmingly excited right now
i want to squeeeeeeze something
like a tuuuuuube of toothpaste
or clench my jaw like thiiiiiis
oh miserable confusion
irresistable confession
i dooooooo.

not-so-secret

you reserved a handshake for the right man and i thought how austere of you - but you remarked in jest that it was too late anyway, since you fucked his youngest daughter, she was a slut you know, they called her the paper bag princess, she wore her hair in pigtails, that coquettish fetish queen; ah, but her father smiled back at you and and laughed - "my dear boy, i took her virginity!"

i earned my soul

thinking so much the way i do.

i fell in love with a bad bad man ever since i met him i've been sad sad sad.

where did this shiny new perspective come from? i quit smoking and gave up on you and i feel fucking great. neither were worthy-less. both were keeping me sick, selfish animals. i am not to be coveted. your desires will not bind me any longer, but i still lust for your fingertips, my precious, capricious lover. i am releasing some hidden reserve of strength. been stowing it here since childhood you know. i am out of control. this well's been dry for months. no rain, no pain, hallucinogenic thirst. nihilism is just getting comfortable, finally settling in. take your coat off, yes, please stay a while. this works, making it stink less, empty garbage can dreams. that must be citrus and lavender, what a lovely room spray.

like an arrow i am only passing through.

the tourist novelty of buying fruit in a chinese market or walking under the bridge on lansdowne and not wondering if a pigeon might shit on you or acting sarcastic and psychopathic in the streets with an old lover toronto is full of wonders. wearing flip flops and shorts today? hey can you believe this weather. hey. can you shaaare that with me. could you staaand any closer to me. should we seeee if there are still some fresh ones. litter is passe and smoking is taboo toronto is full of mysterious habits. the cheapest pint will probably be $3.50 and this stretch of bars are full even though they all play bad music. toronto is full of suburban kids on the weekends and they actually think this is cool. if i had some money i would buy all the nicest vintage clothing and wear it better than the kids who read about it in NOW. being bored here is not an option anymore. i am soooo tired. i seeeek stimulation. i stiiiink of misery. anticipating my big goodbye, no one will be there to see me off. but a tree must make sound falling in the thick of some virgin forest? craaaaaaaaaaaaash.

you do not understand the nature of a cat

not that they understand each other anyway

you can be a dog and that really makes more sense to me

i can be cool without getting into any altercations

with a curious caution

& lofty apathy

circus maze

i do not know how to look you in the eyes or have an honest conversation with you. not yet. you are the mirror of my fears. i do not have the nerve to endure any more heartbreak, rejection or pain. you are the mirror of my fears, my own worst nightmare. you are my eyes looking deep into my eyes looking deep into my eyes looking deep into my eyes. into the depths of my soul wondering just what is down there. what rumbling embers can be set ablaze with a faint whisper to disturb this arctic vacancy. somewhere deep down there is a dormant coal, a sparkling ember in the pit of my soul. i can see it flickering purple in your eyes, menacing some slight deviation in your grin. success?

i guess i tend to let you win.

let's move to the country

i had this dream last night that i waited for an old friend to go to montreal with me for a party, but i got too high on acid and ended up in a jungle in northern iran, where there's no real jungle you know, i mean i'm pretty sure its a desert there, and there was a train passing through this paradise, but i couldn't get on because i was really waiting for you to show up, i think something happened, like you fell asleep or forgot i called, so i meandered in the jungle's rivers for hours and talked to fairies wondering where i might go next, and how i'd even get there, since the trains only run once every four days

peter pan was a kind of gypsy

i memorized that movie word-for-word as a kid, go figure. never aging is a dream for another world, one that doesn't really exist, but one that i do like to think about. yeah, you are the messenger of my dreams but you don't give me no deliverance. i'm writing the story of your life, well someone else's at least, not mine. even though you don't have any nightmares. that part is fictional. i expect you to deliver me from all evils, but here i am, hopelessly & perpetually confounded by my own mixed emotions and childish reactions. i can't deliver much but a blunt response, you know that. maybe an excellent blowjob or some well-cooked eggs, a fucking cookie. i could knit you an ugly scarf or talk to you about how ginsberg's later poetry is a form of pornography, or how gramsci is the most understated and misunderstood of all marxists, but perhaps the most important. i could organize the files on your desk in a tight dress so you would never really respect me no matter how good i was at organizing and since you hired me because i was wearing that dress now i can't stop wearing it can i. i could wipe the endless surfaces and leave you trite notes to take your vitamins in matronly penmanship like, "take your vitamins, dear." i can't even help myself, you know, despite trying. you could be conscious of it and not really get anywhere if you wanted. and why is it that wanting is doing without wanting it to be. i mean, i get it, its a verb, but isnt it like one of those emotive verbs that don't actually insinuate action? you know i just don't know what to do anymore. but this obviously isn't working out. i mean, me, you, myself, what's the difference?

note to self

oh, there is so much to do before i go.

so many people to see,

so many i love you's i owe.

how much i'll miss everyone & everything.

my life is here.

i am scared.

there are things i have to do

that i am not ready to accept.

growing up.

never get married.

your parents might get into an argument.

friendship is a lucrative endeavour

and brave, really!

storytellers

johnny cash is a pisces i should have known. i hope one day i've been everywhere too, man. drifter! i can float around in the raspy currents and end up on any shore, i'll tell the same stories and sing the same songs.

sensitive roots

another philosophic exploitation of experience

the ancients used to say that matters of love should be left for philosophers and poets to decipher. unfortunately i have meddled too much and discovered very little; other than my own fears, limitations, scrutiny and pain. my own suffering. i am a narcissist. i live to suffer. it gives me material. it helps me feel. who could torture themselves this way and not be completely and genuinely obsessed with themselves? true happiness hinders my dreams. i am not ready for it, i don't want it. not now, not until i am ready to be bored. remember when you told me that you thought you didn't feel? i know you loved me, but only now do i really understand what you meant. it's hard to feel being a dreamer because nothing seems real. only the imagination is real. i understand. i forgive you. you probably thought i didn't feel much either. maybe that's why we were so good together. and those nightmares. my faceless face. why wouldn't i talk to you? why did i make you cry? why didn't i care? i can be heartless, i know. so many years have passed. somehow i never give up trying to find what i'm looking for. ideals and perfection. impossibilities. dreams. my dreams are real. only you gave me that. reality is too mundane. i imagine everything i want and it changes everyday. i am too vain, too stubborn, too selfish, too proud, too cold. yet i am at the same time so jaded, so compassionate, so sensitive, so loving, so attentive, so nurturing. i am polar. its hard to live being pulled apart this way. i want the world and i'll never rest until i have it all. to the men i've loved, i'm sorry for my lack of compromise. i wish i could relax too. but instead i am impossible, restless and anxious and reactionary and passionate. too passionate? nothing is good enough for me. nothing is ever enough. except for you, baby, and mama misses you very much. no one has ever replaced you in my heart. sometimes i get scared thinking no one ever will. but i have to keep searching. i have to keep moving on. i thought i wanted normalcy too. but i really don't.

yes please

my life is about me

and me only

warmest winter

its february, the month of my birth. the coldest, bitterest of all months, i used to remember. last winter i thought the ice might never melt, the snow might never stop falling. how we cooped ourselves up in that apartment and watched silently from the windows as it closed us in deeper and deeper. it did end, of course, in april. and may was wonderful, blazing yellow and aromatic until your birthday, vanessa. this is the warmest winter i can remember. and i've never felt this sad before. never felt so hopeless. cattails and brown and yellow and burgundy bleak. thrashing rabies shoreline. there is no ice this year, great ones. no stillness here. barren branches, a shady patch of snow. mossy fauna strays and wanders. eternal spring. there is no sunshine here. not where i come from. not where i go. the odd pine, rails and rocks and empty riverbeds. the factory smoking stacks. cement is flat the shiny tracks. everything is blurry here. where i come from and where i go. muddled with tears and salt stained windows. everyone has a dirty car. grey and white and cloudy and black. everything is darkness here. where i come from and where i go. it's the warmest winter i can ever remember. i should be happy but instead i'm sad. yeah it's not where i come from but where i go. for now i'm frozen shut waiting at the tracks for this train to take me where i'm supposed to go.

nervous person

nerves nerves nerves

havent you heard

i bite my nails til they bleed

i got the anxiety

you should have known

i really cant settle down

nerves nerves nerves

havent you heard

girl can move to any beat

shes got the anxiety

no she cant help it at all

might start up a brawl

good woman

good woman mouth shut

good woman don't talk back

good woman die for you

good woman expire soon

good woman give you

good woman kneel down

good woman let you

good woman stay put

good woman, don't read

new diet

fucking coming loving sucking holding wanting needing eating bending kneeling grasping biting fighting spitting scratching squirting groaning grunting moaning mounting riding rubbing gently touching pulling spanking pushing panting twisting whipping penetrating bruising tearing ripping gagging choking chasing drinking smoking

my healthy lifestyle -

lacking focus & foresight

your childish smile

and rosy cheeks

make my heart skip a beat

and those eyes -

oh boy, those eyes...

--------

our silence is booming

and dynamic

(energetic)

in a crowded room you take pride in me

and subtly show me off

by touching my arm

your pet i've become

but what else?

for now its better left unsaid

--------

regimental accuracies of thought & action secure fantasies of sadomasochism. i do not want to wield any control. that is your fate, your fortune. not mine. you are a gypsy & a clairvoyant. you are a shaman without knowing it. draconian morality, you hypocrite it makes no sense. what do you want from me? my precious, timeless, youthful energy? my fountains of creativity? i am slave, i am child for you. woman to the world. oh, how you channel me this way..!

tea time

you have appeared

out of nowhere

like a divinely ordained

epiphany

but this is only coincidence

or some haphazard

ironic fate

two lovers meet

on full moon dates

to be animal

is to trust our instincts

& how could we not be wild?