Archive for August, 2011


August 22, 2011

luminous flask,
your beauty formed
petal by petal,
crystal scales expanded you
and in the secrecy of the dark earth
your belly grew round with dew.
Under the earth
the miracle
and when your clumsy
green stem appeared,
and your leaves were born
like swords
in the garden,
the earth heaped up her power
showing your naked transparency,
and as the remote sea
in lifting the breasts of Aphrodite
duplicating the magnolia,
so did the earth
make you,
clear as a planet
and destined
to shine,
constant constellation,
round rose of water,
the table
of the poor.

You make us cry without hurting us.
I have praised everything that exists,
but to me, onion, you are
more beautiful than a bird
of dazzling feathers,
heavenly globe, platinum goblet,
unmoving dance
of the snowy anemone

and the fragrance of the earth lives
in your crystalline nature.”

-ode to the onion, pablo neruda. i grilled some onions to put on my pasta and bokchoy today.

even if you’re a teenager, with that hair and accent, i’m sold: 


august 21

August 22, 2011

mike piscitelli:  the seagulls were flying in circles and squawking, seemingly aimlessly. it was actually because they were sick and tired of not finding god in the sky nor in the ocean. they were protesting. then i turned and looked at him in that hot sand. the mole on his chin looked like a very very miniature belgian truffle. this is when i realized i was okay if i did not find god. (greg miller took that picture)

August 20, 2011
tuesday, june 28
dear neighbor,
you politely asked me to take care of your tomato plant while you were away for the long weekend since we share access to the the south terrace. i did not do it! why? because i like you but you never talk to me (the only time you really talked to me was on tuesday because of the watering your tomatoes thing) and i feel like after the nice things i have done for you and because of my adoration towards you (with nothing in return), i don’t really get why i should take care of your fruits (vegetables?). once i had bought too much fertilizer so i left it with a note for you so you could use it. another time, my mother brought me a loaf of banana bread and i only ate half of it so i put it in some foil-wrap and left it on your door with a note that explained that my mom made it and i couldn’t finish it and that maybe you’d like it. you never even said thankyou! and i know you have a boyfriend because i hear you two, but i don’t know what you see in him. his moustache is uneven and he wears dark blue loafers.
when you arrive today you will see there is no tomato plant. i took the two ripe tomatoes and smushed them over my pasta, delicious. and the plant itself, along with the 8 or 9 hanging un-ripe green tomatos i hurled through the window and it coincidentally hit your cat and killed it. i’m glad your tomato plant is gone but i feel a bit bad about the cat.
john from apartment 3c
back in dry california and i feel like some tomatoes

back in the states

August 19, 2011
the little boxes of green and electric yellow, those thousands of windows anonymous. but today, they are eyes, quite comfortingly looking down on me. glinting guardings observing me stroll along the east village, lower east side, sometimes they even watch me from across the river when i stumble around brooklyn.
as those window-eyes look down on me, i look up at them. and it serves as a sort of mutual-i-got-your-back type thing. my existence, seemingly so minimal amongst the hoardes of thousands of pedestrians in this island, suddenly is confirmed when a stranger recognizes me amongst the ants (just one amongst the snakey suits of wall street/ the bulimic micey models/the bean bag jelly bean men /the new yorkers). they gaze down from their building’s eyes (their studio apartment terrace/ bathroom window as they take a post-coital piss/ fire escape as they light up a cigarette) and for a split second, i exist.
and the people behind the illuminated windows, cubes of routine and stacked lazy eyelids, become souls aswell when i look up at them from the street sidewalk and realize that there are people alive and breathing up there. there’s a proclamation of love on the 7th floor of that rickity building in little italy. a first date catastrophe when the tomato soup spills on her white ibiza dress in that not-so-shabby apartment complex in gramercy. on the corner of ave a and 11th st, 3rd floor walk up, a college student decides to send a break-up text to girlfriend because he’s gay and he’s known it forever and he wants to stop lieing. and on 200th st a big brother shows off to his girlfriend the seductive dance moves that run a marathon through his dominican veins.
do you understand? you are looking out for me and i am looking out for you. you give me the treat of witnessing decisive moments in your life, and in turn, you can look at me with your thousands of blinking eyes and watch me walk.


August 9, 2011

look! its google street view photos. unbelievable (gracias, beth). the other day i was hiking around what looked like new zealand but was actually galicia and we went to a green light house and then we went to the beach and sipped mahou beer, rain came and went and so did two rainbows. then a horse came and trotted along the shore.

today i turn 20 and i ate lots and lots of seaf ood and spanish goat cheese and cream cake and then i had a food coma. i went on a walk with my mom over a bridge and turquoise river and my mom told me how my head was perfectly round when she first held me because i was a cesarian baby, so i dont have a conehead.

danza koduro

August 6, 2011

awesome video beth showed me!

the rent is too damn high and i dont like brokers. atleast i’m tan

August 3, 2011 yeah animals know how to live more than you do. and(claudia pearson). currently on the search for an apartment in abc city so i can join the nyu trendy kids that dress homeless but have mama and papa paying for their outrageously expensive 6th floor walk up. carli davidson takes pics of dogs in mid-shake:

you are many raisins short of the fruitcake

August 1, 2011

-Finally the sun came out and i swam in the ocean 4 times in one day( my great-aunt and her friends at the beach! i never met her)

-I need to find a guy who has eyebrows like furrowy sprouts.

wtf (robin schwartz)