aug 11

california was great. the best parts: backyard figs, backyard eggplant, backyard molding apricots. chlorine dips, sea breezes, dusty cracking mountaintops with shaggy wigs of sage. fry-an-egg hot sidewalks, my parents in the shade, grandma whispering her love.

birthday was great. the best parts: a nudist beach on the jersey shore, micropenises galore. cold hummus, seedy crackers, cold mango, sharp carrots. icey heinekens on a boat, salt in my hair, on my lips, on my head, views of our big, dirty, beautiful city.

i’ve been writing about gardens and lights and the things i remember about being a kid. do you have a lamp in your life you particularly remember?  i  remember warm light flickering from an old lamp my mother had brought from spain. it was the sort of object that was so heavy and smooth and ornate it could only be expensive, i reasoned. the base consisted of a bronze tree with a bronze woman, naked, round, with an arm extended upwards, leaning against the trunk. her nipples were like little marbles. her hair made me think gold could be brushed. above her, hanging from the tree limbs that held the bulb was the snake of eden.
i thought of her story this way: eva wanted what she wanted and she went for it, that’s why we’re all here today. eva’s fingers were terrifyingly close to the snake’s fangs.

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