so many t-shirts. so little...money. yeah, i was going to say time, but really...it's money.
Evening Hawk
By Robert Penn Warren
From plane of light to plane, wings dipping through
Geometries and orchids that the sunset builds,
Out of the peak's black angularity of shadow, riding
The last tumultuous avalanche of
Light above pines and the guttural gorge,
The hawk comes.
His wing
Scythes down another day, his motion
Is that of the honed steel-edge, we hear
The crashless fall of stalks of Time.
The head of each stalk is heavy with the gold of our error.
Look! Look! he is climbing the last light
Who knows neither Time nor error, and under
Whose eye, unforgiving, the world, unforgiven, swings
Into shadow.
Long now,
The last thrush is still, the last bat
Now cruises in his sharp hieroglyphics. His wisdom
Is ancient, too, and immense. The star
Is steady, like Plato, over the mountain.
If there were no wind we might, we think, hear
The earth grind on its axis, or history
Drip in darkness like a leaking pipe in the cellar.
i'd give my soul to write like that.
well, maybe not my soul. but certainly a soul.
"the ground i would have eaten in solitude" -- that's kerouac again, how can that man hook me with one line? that sonbitch.
soon i will go out for coffee with my irish cowboy, an irish cowboy i have not seen in a good couple of months. i think i used to love him, but i don't know so much now. he is silly, but endearing. just as irish cowboys should be.
graduation is coming up. what does this mean? it means jack the girl will get her first tattoo. and what will jack the girl's first tattoo be? a swallow, in keeping with the traditions of old school sailors who would get them inked on their chests, each crooked li'l bird representing 5000 miles.
i think thirteen years in the provincial school system merits about 5000 miles. just as much hardship.
maybe less scurvy.
however, as opposed to gracing my collarbone, my first crooked li'l bird is going under my right breast. why? because it's easier to keep hidden should that lucrative acting job happen, and i'm sassy god dammit.
another tattoo idea: a gun, done on my hip like a holster, but with crazy rock-a-potamus vines, flowers, and butterflies coming out of it's mouth.
and a buffalo under the hump-de-bump of my ankle bone.
the da vinci code, jack the girl's verdict of: if you can forget you are reading the most turgid of prose, it's quite delightful. why can't people admit that some books are just fun and that's the long and short of it? and yes, i know the dialogue is awful and the theories presented therein are just so much questionable sushi.
final say: any sins committed in the plot are redeemed by teabing who could totally bear my children, if he wanted to.
on an unrelated note..
is jack the girl mixing spots and stripes?
THAT BITCH!
Evening Hawk
By Robert Penn Warren
From plane of light to plane, wings dipping through
Geometries and orchids that the sunset builds,
Out of the peak's black angularity of shadow, riding
The last tumultuous avalanche of
Light above pines and the guttural gorge,
The hawk comes.
His wing
Scythes down another day, his motion
Is that of the honed steel-edge, we hear
The crashless fall of stalks of Time.
The head of each stalk is heavy with the gold of our error.
Look! Look! he is climbing the last light
Who knows neither Time nor error, and under
Whose eye, unforgiving, the world, unforgiven, swings
Into shadow.
Long now,
The last thrush is still, the last bat
Now cruises in his sharp hieroglyphics. His wisdom
Is ancient, too, and immense. The star
Is steady, like Plato, over the mountain.
If there were no wind we might, we think, hear
The earth grind on its axis, or history
Drip in darkness like a leaking pipe in the cellar.
i'd give my soul to write like that.
well, maybe not my soul. but certainly a soul.
"the ground i would have eaten in solitude" -- that's kerouac again, how can that man hook me with one line? that sonbitch.
soon i will go out for coffee with my irish cowboy, an irish cowboy i have not seen in a good couple of months. i think i used to love him, but i don't know so much now. he is silly, but endearing. just as irish cowboys should be.
graduation is coming up. what does this mean? it means jack the girl will get her first tattoo. and what will jack the girl's first tattoo be? a swallow, in keeping with the traditions of old school sailors who would get them inked on their chests, each crooked li'l bird representing 5000 miles.
i think thirteen years in the provincial school system merits about 5000 miles. just as much hardship.
maybe less scurvy.
however, as opposed to gracing my collarbone, my first crooked li'l bird is going under my right breast. why? because it's easier to keep hidden should that lucrative acting job happen, and i'm sassy god dammit.
another tattoo idea: a gun, done on my hip like a holster, but with crazy rock-a-potamus vines, flowers, and butterflies coming out of it's mouth.
and a buffalo under the hump-de-bump of my ankle bone.
the da vinci code, jack the girl's verdict of: if you can forget you are reading the most turgid of prose, it's quite delightful. why can't people admit that some books are just fun and that's the long and short of it? and yes, i know the dialogue is awful and the theories presented therein are just so much questionable sushi.
final say: any sins committed in the plot are redeemed by teabing who could totally bear my children, if he wanted to.
on an unrelated note..
is jack the girl mixing spots and stripes?
THAT BITCH!
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
Oh my god yes he is the cutest!!!! Everything about that movie is just completely wonderful, the all of the characters are so great.
Love does suck sometimes.