verlieren

It is a river color
because it burned so brightly
and you can see into it.
It is a fawn's lip
which conjures heavily
and places Annie under it.
Keeps tense and proliferates
makes spices enter it.
It is waves moving along coral floors
it is hindrance, perfectibility,
and the entrances of laces,
touch of phosphorescent stones,
remedies of passion, carriers of taste
and incomprehensible lashes, exposing bone.

Wednesday, January 6, 2010
AirTran Airways # 433

Kansas City International (MCI) to Atlanta Hartsfield-Jackson ATL (ATL)
Departure (MCI): January 6, 6:35 AM CST (morning)
Arrival (ATL): January 6, 9:34 AM EST (morning)
Class: Economy


View the latest airport conditions at: MCI | ATL
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
AirTran Airways # 135

Atlanta Hartsfield-Jackson ATL (ATL) to Tampa International (TPA)
Departure (ATL): January 6, 11:00 AM EST (morning)
Arrival (TPA): January 6, 12:26 PM EST (afternoon)


Class: Economy

MY HEART SOARS

What do you like best about the coffee shop or cafe you frequent most?

What do you usually order?

What do you wish that your particular coffee-shop sold?

I am afraid to die before I can truly relish the good fruit of my hard labor, so I never begin.

I haven't written anything in so long.

I am still sad, there is just a new pressure from a new source: time.

I think of all of the things I want to accomplish:

I want for my mother to be happy.
I want to have a real relationship with my father.
I want to mend the knots between my sisters and I.
I want to make Mookie as fulfilled and happy as I can.
I want to live with Emmy and be the best friend to her that I've failed at before.

I want to bridge the educational gap in America, between the rich and poor; what from the above will I end up sacrificing for that cause?

zine in process, call for submissions (from/for females AND males)

send all stories, ideas, thoughts, questions, writing, poetry, artwork, complaints, memories, etc. to:
boringgirls@gmail.com with the subject line "zine"

there are no restrictions, guidelines, rules, whatever, except for the topic at hand
this is not an anti-male zine
all submissions can remain anonymous or published with credit due where it is due
tell any friends, family, or acquaintances you think might be interested

deadline is monday, october 19th
first issue coming out monday, october 26th

01. Mariah Carey (feat. ODB) - Fantasy (Remix)
02. Tyrannosaurus Rex - By The Light Of The Magical Moon
03. Muppets - Movin' Right Along
04. Elliott Smith - All My Rowdy Friends (Hank II Cover)
05. The Cramps - Can Your Pussy Do The Dog?
06. Amboy Dukes - Baby, Please Don't Go
07. Frank Black - Dirty Old Town
08. A Tribe Called Quest - Separate/Together
09. Black Eyes - On The Sacred Side
10. Richard Cheese - Holiday In Cambodia
11. The Ramones - Today Your Love, Tomorrow The World
12. The Velvet Underground - I'm Waiting For The Man
13. The Notorious B.I.G. - Juicy
14. Black Lips - Bad Kids
15. Big Youth - Solomon A Gunday

When the young die, there are no estate sales.
There are just balloons excreting helium. They waltz with
streamers across the bottom of a room.

When I die, I'll hibernate. I eat in preparation for this.
When I'm dead, I'll still worry about dying.
I'll still think I didn't wind up,
didn't lick you enough,
didn't crack when I was sad.

How do you feel about Henry Rollins?

my body is always buzzing
my eyes are cold and bulging from my sockets like varnished half sized golf balls
my swatches of skin color don't hide the ingrown hairs
how I long to be dark like the girls from high school
how I would imagine them naked in front of their mirrors
cupping their ripe and perfect breasts
their brown skin stretched perfectly over their bones
I could see a scalpel incise anywhere on their body and
their skin so soft it must splay open like a flower

my vagina does not allow itself to be touched
it sends messages to my body with such quickness and swelling
I truly am in the image of God
my reflection is as sterile and barren as the tallest whitest figure
and my fertility was gaping and hungry on the screen
until I strung it around my fork like a noodle
under your blanket in the dark

please, just leave me alone to read all of my newstand magazines
they are truly preparing me for my later trip to the parade in Hell
I will see you there with my head on a stick and my baby ghost in my arms

I really want to buy a new PC when I get enough money.

What kind should I buy? I definitely am going to get a lap top.

Just don't even bring up apple or macs, it's not a viable option for me. I am a pcgeek.

As she approached the bus stop this afternoon she happened upon the person already sitting there. She scoped out and surveyed and came to the conclusion that yes, He is Native American. She couldn’t help but admit to being strangely thrilled, even moved by the idea of speaking with him. But when she finally worked up the courage to ask him what he was reading, she was awkwardly disappointed. With his voice, the word flow, the tone and level. It is doubtful she even heard the title of the book. “No one ever speaks the way I want them to,” she thought. Her listening habit was to cut what she found as fat.

What she and you and all the other women have in common is putting their normal thoughts on hold. Men don’t understand women in a variety of ways, including but not restricted to: planting their thought seeds, peeing habits, when someone joins the table and makes you uneasy and is unwelcome. Your hungry little jaws want to chew and chomp; they remind you of your empty shelves of food at home. Your empty shelves of food are a stark contrast to your density of books. You have a great desire to read them all and rid your little bedroom of every single text.

I am afraid to go to sleep any night.
I have several dreams.
I feel insecure in this goodness and pleasure.
I miss the safety and gloom of moroseness.
I I I I I can't stop talking about myself.
I am very afraid of dying, being turned off.

This is gross.

Someone moves out, someone moves in. All of those things are replaced. Her night table for my soapbox. Her bed slats for my findings (the kind you have to mix and stir in wide, shallow tubs);

There is a constant exchange around here and it is keeping tabs on me. It watches me the way we watch for cliches: they elude us, detect us first, then we are captured.

I gifted my dog to the new you.

We walk him around the city with Beam and faux-cola.
'Clink' and then a monster. Your eyes at my back like my bedroom and sisters.
A spidery kit of legs wraps around you, and your eyes, again, at my back.

I can see my dainty little sister on her cigarette break at work,
so I think thoughts that you can see.
All her fragile little limbs encased, gingerly smoking and thinking.

and with me up that wave
by way of kiss let language probe
out our private february slide

I CAN'T FUCKING WRITE ANYTHING TODAY WHAT THE FUCK.