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by mark 01/29/2007, 5:29pm PST |
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[09 Dec 2006|11:39pm]
[ mood | i'm so fucking scared ]
[ music | elliott smith- king's crossing ]
After The Funeral
I saw a possum striding along the edge of a fence
its body soft as a wasp’s nest.
It was shaped
like a wasp’s nest. And it buzzed as if it were
full of wasps.
The possum was pregnant. And then
I thought the possum knew me. I thought, for a moment
that it was you. And I was afraid. I was afraid that you
would tell me something. And that I wouldn’t be able
to handle it. I could see the possum’s
stomach was a paper bag and it was full
of wasps. When I placed my hand on the possum’s stomach
I felt the wasps. The possum
was sick. It rolled on its back & shook. It quivered
in the black leaves.
I could hear the wasps singing. They were gold and
vermilion and each note
burned like oil.
The possum’s stomach was taut & moving, bubbling
like water. The possum’s stomach
was cracking like old paint
and milk appeared in the cracks and it was not just wet
but molten.
And then the light in the meadow began to thicken
and fill up with yellow
it was like a glass of water that a cigarette
has been placed in
I could see the flakes of ash, the hard white flakes
turning to cream.
The yellow ash floated in the breeze. And the possum’s
belly was yellow too
like the withered insides of a lemon.
When I woke up, the meadow smelled like rotten fruit
& there were moths, many millions of them, swimming
up from a hole
the size of infant’s head. And each of the moths
was a petal of flame
and left trails of flame in the bracken air.
[28 Jan 2007|05:22pm]
[ mood | go spurs! ]
[ music | el perro del mar- sad ]
RQ
What happened to her?
Her gypsy fingers, her mint cigarettes; her
always trembling. Sitting in her silver-veined
Subaru
wearing an old fox: she
never went in.
Him: a jittery blonde, goofed up
hand held up
to staunch the bleeding. That’s what I heard.
That’s what I believe.
Two burnouts in love. “I heard they settled down, started
a yard sale, settled down, started
another tryst.” |
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The Story of a LJ called Scribble (now deleted) by mark 08/18/2005, 5:01pm PDT 
July 12th by mark 08/18/2005, 5:01pm PDT 
July 14th by mark 08/18/2005, 5:02pm PDT 
July 15th-19th by mark 08/18/2005, 5:08pm PDT 
Even more from the 15th by mark 08/18/2005, 5:13pm PDT 
Alphabet soup made out of glass. by Alphabet soup made out of glass. 08/19/2005, 11:44am PDT 
July 19-25 by mark 08/18/2005, 5:20pm PDT 
July 26 - August 5 by mark 08/18/2005, 5:39pm PDT 
AIM! Ready? by Ray of Light 08/18/2005, 5:48pm PDT 
Guys, come on, death is the opposite of a treehouse. Lighten up by Rafiki 08/19/2005, 11:14am PDT 
Aug 12- 15 Self Destruction and Finale by mark 08/18/2005, 9:00pm PDT 
Aug 15-18 Fucking Like Angels with Mixtapes by mark 08/18/2005, 9:07pm PDT 
Good fucking God by laudablepuss 08/19/2005, 11:15am PDT 
Selected Scribble, May-June 2005 by mark 08/19/2005, 1:00pm PDT 
I still don't quite know why we're being bombarded with this guy's loserdom. by casual observer 08/19/2005, 1:26pm PDT 
I want to save his terrible prose for future generations by mark 08/19/2005, 2:05pm PDT 
I can appreciate your efforts. Carry on, then. NT by casual observer 08/19/2005, 6:07pm PDT 
You forgot to sniff while saying that. Is your monocle okay? NT by I need clarification 08/19/2005, 7:33pm PDT 
By jove, I think your right! Let me pipe-puff away while I consider this error. NT by casual observer 08/20/2005, 2:25am PDT 
Your, you're, you don't give a fuck either way. NT by casual observer 08/20/2005, 2:25am PDT 
"Art: David Rees" <3 NT by Fussbett 08/19/2005, 8:12pm PDT 
My tire has been killed because the world is too large. NT by This is all I had to read. 08/19/2005, 8:50pm PDT 
An AIM Log by mark 08/19/2005, 9:53pm PDT 
Re: An AIM Log by Ray of Light 08/20/2005, 2:02am PDT 
August 19-24: Night Falls like a Blow to the Head by mark 08/31/2005, 2:18pm PDT 
I am going to be teaching High School english by WTF 08/31/2005, 2:25pm PDT 
Alternate title: Even machetes grow up. by laudablepuss 08/31/2005, 4:21pm PDT 
August 26-28: June dances a slow jitterbug. August sets her own skirts on fire. by mark 08/31/2005, 11:10pm PDT 
August 31: Endgame. by mark 08/31/2005, 11:18pm PDT 
Re: August 31: Endgame. by Souffle of Pain 08/31/2005, 11:52pm PDT 
September 1-10: Dead sweat in our teeth. by mark 09/10/2005, 11:19pm PDT 
01 - Elliott Smith - Needle in The Hay.mp3 NT by Fullofkittens 09/10/2005, 11:30pm PDT 
September 11-15: This isn't a job. (Bonus ending for FoK!) by mark 09/15/2005, 8:07pm PDT 
THis psycho is moulding the minds of some poor person's kids? by Oom Shnibble 09/16/2005, 6:22am PDT 
Re: THis psycho is moulding the minds of some poor person's kids? by . 10/13/2005, 3:13am PDT 
I find blogging/online journals to be a waste of time. -nt- by Oom Shnibble 10/13/2005, 9:49am PDT 
Wow does this post have text or not? NT by Creexul :( 10/13/2005, 12:25pm PDT 
I am still GIRLISHLY GIGGLING at his -nt- format. It's like going back in time! NT by Entropy Stew 10/14/2005, 9:13am PDT 
Re: THis psycho is moulding the minds of some poor person's kids? by motherfuckerfoodeater 10/13/2005, 3:35pm PDT 
Scribble fights back! by mark 10/18/2005, 2:43pm PDT 
November 26th, 2005: just let me die by mark 11/28/2005, 11:28pm PST 
Wasn't he supposed to be dead by now? by The Happiness Engine 01/27/2007, 9:24pm PST 
He's still a poet, folks. by mark 01/29/2007, 5:29pm PST 
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