novembre ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- venturan dream day tired. dad woke me up by throwing our seventy pound seven month old labrador puppy onto my tiny bed with me. go to the beach. take him to the beach. after he left for work i crawled into my father's bed, slept for two more hours. woke up and watched bells on their toes, the movie sequel to the book sequel about the gilbreth family in the thirties and forties. twelve children, dead father, persistent mother. billie came and cut the grass. mom came home from work and we walked the dogs around the park before picking up dinner. tostada, no shell. i went over to judy's, learned three new handshakes and watched part of dancer in the dark, perched on a sofa chair next to a ninteen year old dressed like fred durst who kept staring at my breasts. before bjork went totally blind, i left, driving home slowly blasting sad music. i passed my grandparents' old house, marvelling at the new paint job and tears in my eyes. came home, dad's drunk the seventy pound seven month old labrador puppy is farting dad's mad at me for not being ladylike, for eating my entire popsicle, for wearing my keys attached to my belt loop. he fell asleep in front of the television and here i am, picking sleepysand out of my eyelashes. the movie he was watching moves through the walls, it sounds like someone in the next room is whispering. 11:31 pm - 5.31.01 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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