1-12 The Guests.m4aThis song is dedicated to my Valentines. Both of them. Thank you for a very memorable Valentines day. Is that it then? Perhaps it should be. I was starting to feel too much, and that just made no sense at all. It’s so much easier for me to just turn away and say “enough”. Try explaining this to anyone on the outside. Try telling your very best girlfriends about such a strange connection, and watch as they arch their eyebrows when you get to the punch line. But despite that, despite my own reservations, I know this is…
Suzanne – Leonard Cohen Toulouse is watching me, perched on the back of the sofa. He loves Leonard just as I do. But classic Leonard is best. I worked for twelve hours today. I wanted to use these pages to write something terribly clever, and creative, but my face feels like mush, and I know the words will come out wrong. Still, I feel compelled to write something, and so with free verse on my side, I soldier on. This was my horoscope today:Don’t be surprised if you end up having a falling out with one of your friends before…
I woke this morning wanting only coffee. I haven’t had any yet. Instead I was led on a journey through the heart and mind of Sylvia Plath. Imagine giving so much of your love and life to a man who will suck the soul right out of you, lie to you, cheat on you, manipulate you, pull apart the fibers of your very constitution until you question who you ever were to begin with, and hate yourself for ever loving him in the first place! Many women, (having been taught from day one how to empty their veins into the…
Sisters of Mercy – Leonard Cohen On these kinds of nights, when it is in fact the next morning, and when Anne has had far too much to drink, it is always the same. She carefully counts out the cab driver’s tip, mounts the cement stairs to her door, fumbles with her key in the lock, and tiptoes quietly to her apartment, all of which she scarcely remembers the next morning. She will likely skip washing the makeup off her face, (except for her lipstick) will very quickly brush her teeth, will peel off her clothes and drop them in…
And my heart is like a saturated sponge right now, so the tub is where I’ll stay. As I imagine my own small, white hands wrapping gently around my ventricles and wringing my pumper free of the weight of so much liquid, I think of you, and of the virtue I so lack. If patience is a virtue, that is… I often wonder if my own over-active imagination, or perhaps my deeply yearning soul has concocted you from the ether. You are a delicious figment armed with an arsenal of insight, encouraging words, flattery, feisty quips, poignant Dylan songs, and…
