novembre

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fat girl thigh burn

zaftig baby's soul has officially entered volvo heaven
and instead of organising a funeral i am calling various junk yards and finding out how much i can get for her dead body.

(sound morbid? heather is watching a horror movie to put her to sleep. such is my apartment with its old thin walls like old woman hands.)

no wheels but east bay transit. the trains lull me. the midget with a perm, the six foot tall badly dressed drag queen with a briefcase, the terrible pants, the mormons in nikes and the talkative women with canes. all of this nonchalant nontouching interaction with blank-faced berkeleyans is somehow calming.

10:52 pm - 03.20.02

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