Monday, September 12, 2011


I am a fickle-minded woman.

Journalist, poet, actor, pianist, singer, model, celebrity, evangelist, counselor, composer, inspiration, instigator, intellectual, academic, corporate bombshell, director, leader, mistress, girlfriend, friend, follower, hater, lover, rapper, critic, social-worker, straight-A-student, role-model, radical, revolutionary, strong, upright, appreciative, fucking perfect.

Why must I be?

I would rather sit in a pool of sweat scrubbing floors and beating rugs because I love.

I am love.

Thursday, September 8, 2011

publishing articles online at misChief.unCut
We all go through our different phases, most often not recognizing the hilarity of our position as subject to phenomena of life we once laughed at or scorned and believed ourselves above the influence of. And then its also difficult to see ourselves and our own follies in those that come after us. How proverbial, and how stupidly simple.

I come home late these nights after the Wala Festival most often to no food or lights, on good days to cold food and a single bulb. Every night though, the house is literally empty. My brother now spends four to five of seven nights a week at his friends, and i find myself getting more and more irritated at this. I've already, in bruised indignation, raised the issue with my mother a number of times. I have also mentioned to the younger sibling that the removal of his personal belongings from our house to that of his friend would make possible the better use of space.
But i forget that i too have done this, at worse times and under worse circumstances.


I'll scream if you deny me
the throbbing-pulsing-hurting-hair-raising-uplifting
I burn and burn to shatter these glass walls of
social, moral

Here are my insides open:
the pushing-pulling-engulfing-mind-numbing-freeing.
You search and search to scatter these thoughts of
social, moral

You and I were abandoned;
the gliding-flowing-coursing-streaming-life-destroying
left holes and holes to batter these times of
social, moral