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Today was a snow day; Di invited me to come to the beach with her since school was cancelled. So we drove out to Rockaway with her surfboard strapped on top of her little '75 beamer, it was sweet the empty plowed streets, outer reaches of the outer boroughs, freezing snow drifts and midday light over the waves. I took pictures while she was surfing, found a little palm-sized pounding rock that looks like a whale, breathed the salty sea air and felt my toes freezing in my galoshes. I pushed the car free on the way home where we watched a pipeline surfing contest over a six-pack and spliffs.

Nico said, Oliface, are you a polar bear now? )

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It look 3 1/2 hours, twice as long as usual, but I got home, the bus crawling along the white expanse of the turnpike 20mph. And the snow whipping in the wind across the roads, the only place to walk a path through the mostly abandoned streets. She spreads Her white and quiets the city. It's soft and quiet even with the winds whipping, wheels spinning stuck in the snow, the way snowfall swallows sound. A little while ago there was even a close flash of lightning, one thick slow roll of thunder.

(title taken from diprima's loba; reading her "ballad of the last hippy xmas" she just sent around)
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Moon over Flatiron, I can see the constellations in the city, Orion over my apartment building.

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Dear dark o' the moon, when thin-skinned irritability gives way to wonder at the permeability between worlds underneath a cold black bowl of sky. There's something about that dilation, the aperature widened by the absence of the moon, that makes membranes thin. I'm just grateful when instead of feeling oversensitive and nuts around this time I get moments of receptive sensitivity too, prickly with wonder for a change.
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Winter's still here, the moon is high I feel its warmth.
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So even though it was like 4 degrees this morning, I can feel spring rising in my bones, it's weird. I guess Brigid is only 2 weeks away and I feel it, I feel it, the way the sky gets light on my walk in the morning, something in the pull of the earth. So okay not spring, but that shift in winter, maybe Dylan's "the pulse within the ice," something about the shards of sunlight and cold frozen ground.

Also, Mingus makes cardio so much better for me.
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So I was just making a fairly intertextual mixtape for my cousin when I realized that a poem I wrote is imagistically in conversation with Patti Smith's "Piss Factory," even though I didn't hear the song til years after I wrote the poem. The poem from May 2006 starts:

the sticks of lilac he curls in his clutched hand
bend green where they’ve torn off the bush, wet and splintered their cells exposed
unbudded clumps, hung heavy as a bunch of grapes,
bounce between his legs
each step is light, sunlight is full of seed--

And Patti's poem goes:
I would rather smell the way boys smell--
Oh those schoolboys the way their legs flap under the desk in study hall
That odor rising roses and ammonia
And the way their dicks droop like lilacs...

Whoa! It is 7 o'clock but here it feels much later. Lots of friends to see in the next couple days. Today I took Nellie on a walk down Stagecoach the dirt all gone to red-slate mud, mud on her paws and coat mud on my boots, the sky all wide and blue, cold ground warm sunlight melting all the snow to puddles. I love the country and sometimes it surprises me how well I function away from it.
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My boyfriend left to drive down to North Carolina at 6 this morning, and I fell back asleep to a scary dream where a small black bear + another one wandered through my house, my mom and I creeping carefully away into a vacant room while I worried about Nellie and Tinno's safety. It was no Blueberries for Sal. And then I woke up an hour later alone in the big bed to start my day for real.

I've been thinking lately that it helps to recognize that we are part of the Earth that's moving into winter, that we're wintering too not just enduring bleak cold New York days that stretch into steely slushy months. The sky right now is piercing cold blue outside the drawn shades facing south towards the Chrysler building. Last night when I took Critter for a walk, the moon was hanging low and fat in the sky, a sailess hull cutting through the sky.
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One word is better than homework. )

And now to eke out a little bit of work before I get into my warm comfy beckoning bed. My room's a little messy (piles collect in the corner by the mirror, books and sweaters) but it's so bright and warm now that I gave in and closed the winter against the bitter smokey cold for a little bit. I'm not doing too well with this impending winter. Maybe I just need to find better sweaters and establish a disciplined thesis-work routine, gear up for it. As it stands I feel like fall slipped between my fingers with its inconstant weather and now winter will dig in til the vernal equinox. I guess the challenge is to just be with the temperature drops and hardening earth around me instead of projecting months ahead to no good effect. Tell myself mythological stories about hoary gods and old old goddesses, maybe.
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So I got back to Vassar and got ripped off by the cabbie but I'm thinking of it as a holiday tip that he gave himself and I left my hat on the train which makes me the saddest little boy ever and I think I might actually call the train station and desperately/futilely try to get them to scoop it up and send it to me. Huge cup of coffee from the deli is working its magic as evidenced by mounting but almost pleasant anxiety and a complete lack of proper sentence structure. Speaking of, Murray called my Plato paper 'excellent, lucid, and thorough' which was a nice thing to come home to. Speaking of home, I still need to finish packing my room and throw all my shit in the car and drive home.


Tonight is the solstice. I hope that all of you who observe it have a very good one. Maybe if I take a nap beforehand I will actually stay up all night to tend to the birth. I miss being observant.


Dec. 11th, 2003 11:51 am
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All of Vassar is a puddle! Green and sloshy and the snow is melting to mudlicious slush and the water is deep cold and clear. I got a copious amount of cookies from The Baker at home, and a bath stopper, from my mom, in the mail! Oh drank Guinness last night and finally fell asleep! Ooh, and Squirm (the campus sex-positive pornzine) even gave me a rad (and unintentionally hilarious) gift as thanks for helping set up and carry off Hot Chocolate, that lovely event which gave me an excuse to prance around in next to nothing.

In short, puddles! Cookies! So even though I'm exhausted cos I couldn't sleep til like 3 last night and then woke up to go to the bathroom and almost had a panic attack about opening the stall door, now I am happy!


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