September 2009
4 posts
When I missed the South the most, I’d take to dating one of its sons: gentlemen callers who held the door with tapered fingers or rough field hands. What I was looking for was never to be found in them, just something like it, the way a lake can bring to mind but never be the sea.
-stacey lynn brown
To a Sad Daughter
All night long the hockey pictures gaze down at you sleeping in your tracksuit. Belligerent goalies are your ideal. Threats of being traded cuts and wounds –all this pleases you. O my god! you say at breakfast reading the sports page over the Alpen as another player breaks his ankle or assaults the coach.
When I thought of daughters I wasn’t expecting this but I like this more. ...
shameless // ani difranco
i cannot name this i...
some things.
i think it’s time for something new. i’ll be posting a song and a poem here every day — things that, to me, are perfect or representative of a time/space/period of my life. i may eventually post some of my own writing as well.
glimpses, songs, words. enjoy.