xkcd: a web comic

xkcd is a comic created by a physics graduate on the east coast named Randall Munroe. Internet nerds and smarty pants in general will get a kick out of his strips. I skip over any having to do with math. However, oftentimes he's quite poignant on topics of romance and anthems of the kinda kids I run around with.

On Salvador Dali's Pubes

(based on a true story)
(is that a Serval??)

On Salvador Dali's Pubes

In a museum in St. Petersburg,
Salvador Dali's pubic hair
is glued to one of his paintings.

He eternalized himself in that painting,
I have since forgotten the name to,
in the form
of a drain clogging relic.

The strands have remained pitch
since 1936
but Salvador woke up each day
greyer.

I saw them
curled on cloth,
gessoed down
like spider kicks defeated,
the smell of Catalonia coming off of them.

I could see Gala pressed up against them
yelping, "SALVADOR! SALVADOR!"
As oiled skulls dried nearby,
the reds blushing oranges,
egg shapes collapsing
into panting pieces of white.

Amongst this statement, this
commemoration of his boyhood
gone to bed,
I wondered, inches from
his loin's leaves:
is there a man
somewhere in St. Pete
whose job it is,
every few seasons, to replace
Salvador Dali's pubes
when they faint into dust?

Equi-knots

(old shells discovered)

I enrolled myself in a poetry writing class this semester to help dust/de-rust/lust poetry writing again. So far I haven't fallen in love with anything I've written, but I'll post a few anyway as my class likes what I'm doing. This stuff is definitely still in the workshop phase, so comments/criticism is welcome.


Equi-knots

Upon door crawling across floor, I search for your scent and as my face curls into disappointment the cat paws at what's left of his toasted kibble crumbles and mixes his mumbles into mine.

In the remaining pastel sheets of afternoon light, I travel my chin for the rubbing burns you left behind. Those heated prickles and pokes have cooled into bruise, pink sensitivity tumbled over, arousing my fingertips. A moat for my lips.

I water my pillow tonight, in hopes the wet cotton dirt will sprout the images of you I'd like to save for so many laters.

At sunrise, the steady sound of cicadas seeps into the spit of my mouth. I can taste summer but I can't taste you anymore.

LOLjob

Two of my three jobs requires me to sit in front of a computer for an ungodly amount of time. I remember one day I had a 7 hour shift at the library and I told myself there was no possible way I'd surf the internet for that entire time--BUT I DID. I was blown away and completely ashamed, yet my bad habit of forgetting the books I'm reading at home is still going strong...

I am a child of social networking sites. As much as I'd like to rid myself of them, it'd be a shame to lose all those contacts. MySpace is busted and Facebook is good, but pretty much just a place to play games with your friends online instead of in person (anyone want to start a Scrabble or Bananagrams club?) Anyway, I've been noticing more and more of my friends (especially the ones who write) are starting their own blogs, meant to act as a serious space for exchanging ideas, free of Macy's giftcard spam and porn site propositions.

Before moving to the Midwest, I used to spend hours in my room writing away...poetry, mostly, song lyrics, and some short stories. Something about Kansas City and Lawrence dries me out creatively. I plan on moving to the big city at the end of next spring, and since making that decision the spark is starting to come back.

I officially declare this blog to be a place to share future writing, music finds, notes on art, interesting sites, must-read articles, ponderings, personal updates...but I won't limit myself: funny YouTube videos and LOLcats are allowed. I still have to kill time at work, afterall...

On that note, Happy Caturday!