relocating

deuces, loureedindeed. click through for totheharbormaster.

(don't mind the weird polish title, my new blog is ~in transition~)

μελαγχολία

nina simone covering hall & oates' "rich girl"

james arthur, "the land of nod"

Growing up, I barely knew the Bible, but read
and reread the part when Cain drifted east
or was drawn that way, into a place of desolation,
the land of Nod, there to begin, with a wife

of unknown origin, another race of men,
under the mark of God. As a boy, I thought Nod
would be a place where the blue scillas
would bloom gray, a country of the rack and screw,

the serrated sword, where the very serving cups
were bone. As a grown man, I’ve heard that Nod
never was a nation—of Cain’s offspring, or anyone—
but a mistranslation of “wander,” so Cain

could go wherever, and be in Nod. Far more
than in God, I believe in Cain, who destroyed
his own brother, and therefore in any city
could have his wish, and be alone.

_{from the may 2011 issue of poetry}

can we just talk about the end of "all about u" by 2pac when snoop dogg's talking because it's the funniest thing

I'm tellin ya, it's the same ol' shit
I mean.. god damn, youknowhatI'msayin?
I'm sittin back, watchin' Montell Jordan video
I see the same bitch, who was in, my homeboy Nate Dogg video
Then I flip the channel
I'm checkin out my homeboy 2Pac video
I see the same bitch that was in my video, yanahmsayin?
And then yanahmsayin what make that even mo' fucked up
I'm watchin a Million Man March
And I see the same bitch, on the Million Man March
That was in, the homeboy Warren G video!
I mean, damn, everywhere I look, everywhere I go
I see the same ho
Don't get mad, I'm only bein' real
Yeah

p.s.



picture me lollin'

barbarossa

barbara lewis, "hello stranger"

_LOL

hey so i know a lot of you are experiencing warm weather (77 degrees in los angeles today) and because of this you need to get a slurpee, specifically a mix of blue lightning blast, pina colada and a liiiiitle bit of fanta cherry. i had this today and all of a sudden i dgaf about the heat, which obviously means that there's valium in it or something (so maybe don't get it if you're sober?)

rainer maria rilke, "for the sake of a single poem"

...Ah, poems amount to so little when you write them too early in your life. You ought to wait and gather sense and sweetness for a whole lifetime, and a long one if possible, and then, at the very end, you might perhaps be able to write ten good lines. For poems are not, as people think, simply emotions (one has emotions early enough) - they are experiences. For the sake of a single poem, you must see many cities, many people and Things, you must understand animals, must feel how birds fly, and know the gesture which small flowers make when they open in the morning. You must be able to think back to streets in unknown neighborhoods, to unexpected encounters, and to partings you had long seen coming; to days of childhood whose mystery is still unexplained, to parents whom you had to hurt when they brought in a joy and you didn't pick it up (it was a joy meant for somebody else); to childhood illnesses that began so strangely with so many profound and difficult transformations, to days in quiet restrained rooms and to mornings by the sea, to the sea itself, to seas, but it is still not enough to be able to think of all that. You must have memories of many nights of love, each one different from all the others, memories of women screaming in labor, and of light, pale, sleeping girls who have just given birth and are closing again. But you must also have been beside the dying, must have sat beside the dead in the room with the open windows and the scattered noises. And it is not yet enough to have memories. You must be able to forget them when they are many, and you must have the immense patience to wait until they return. For the memories themselves are not important. Only when they have changed into our very blood, into glance and gesture, and are nameless, no longer to be distinguished from ourselves only then can it happen that in some very rare hour the first word of a poem arises in their midst and goes forth from them.

okay rilke, but...memories of women screaming in labor? WHY

i've been brushing up on mid-to-late 19th century european history like it's my job (will read bismarck speeches for food cigarettes). after i finish this new bismarck biography i want to read a biography of benjamin disraeli, former british prime minister, mostly because him being a jewish poet statesman is both really weird and really awesome to me. there are so many biographies on my "to read" list. in contarini fleming, disraeli advises one to read "nothing but biography, for that is life without theory." after my adorno/agamben/barthes binge (still going on btw), it feels good to get back to biography.

last night i watched an episode of daria ("lane miserables") and during the scene where daria's watching trent leave for his date "everlong" by foo fighters started to play and now i can't stop listening to it. when i listen to it i feel like i should be wearing flannel and complaining about how my parents totally suck while spending their money at the mall and drawing that weird "s" in my notebook a million times. all while wondering, of course, "if everything could feel this real forever." or does that come later, post-adolescence? so deep, i know.

also someone on a rap forum i just found (lol) called dylan thomas a sell-out. DON'T HATE THE PLAYER HATE THE GAME

you shall above all things be glad and young

the best thing about this weekend was salsa dancing at eight in the morning to "don't you worry 'bout a thing" with a guy who quoted rimbaud and neruda to (at?) me

Wait thirty years, & then look out over the earth!

_{g.g. allin getting his swerve on}

something that bummed me out (a new york times article about middle-aged ladies who don't want to have sex with their husbands a.k.a. my future as a woman or so every publication ever likes to tell me [dear god NO]) and something that cheered me up (mark twain's letter to walt whitman in celebration of whitman's 70th birthday and human achievement).

five songs i've been really into lately which all happen to be by ladies/lady-fronted bands:
1. the tammys, "gypsy" (omg the photo for this track, I AM SO SORRY)
2. shannon and the clams, "you will always bring me flowers"
3. marine girls, "tonight?" (impossible to find on youtube, sorry)
4. lil' kim, "queen bitch"
5. the waitresses, "pussy strut"

there's a line in lil' kim's "queen bitch" that i find myself taken aback by whenever i hear it: "got buffoons eatin' my pussy while i watch cartoons." what about when some go-gurt commercial featuring dancing tweens comes on (as it inevitably will)? FUCK NO.

also hey dad if you're reading this please stop

one of the many odd things that happened this weekend

as i sat at the bus stop friday night, feeling incredibly frustrated and alone, a man came up to me and asked if i was "working or just waiting for the bus." i told him that i was just waiting, and then it hit me - this dude thinks i'm a prostitute. he went on to say that if i was selling, he was buying and that he had a place nearby. i smiled and shook my head. eventually he started to cross the street, then stopped, and jogged back to give me a bus token - "i bus all the time but you can have this." i took it, thanked him, and he walked back across the street and turned the corner.