Daily Lit Deviations for November 12th , 2012
Just Say NoFor some absurd reason,
I have a memory of you
Asking me to marry you.
We were sitting on the hill,
Like we normally did,
Looking towards the bay,
And I remember that the water
Was sparkling like liquid diamond.
It was high summer,
And there were those
Butterflies, the ones I love
Amongst the wildflowers
I was in a dress for once,
Pale pink silk gauze,
And you'd spread your jacket
Out for me to sit on.
I turned round,
And your eyes nearly
Like white light
Through green leaves.
You opened your hand,
And there was the most
Perfect ring, gold and one
Deep emerald, like
Looking into the soul of growth
It was a pretty proposal,
Out in the open,
In the sun,
From the most beautiful
In the world.
I remember I said no.
on watching the night close its eyes on you1. I will not tell you
you are pretty.
How can the halls and angles of such honest humanity
be so pinched between sounds as elementary as these?
2. You need not be two stringent boughs of syllables
nor weave your viney bones abreast these five petty letters,
whirling in the fire of the river
Do not attempt to peel yourself layer for layer,
leaving all the disgust behind.
Do not tally your body six lines
too short, hemming the holes into
puckers red as those volcanoes of strength
bursting at the base of your hips.
3. Blood is not satisfaction.
Blood is not patience, waiting for the rooms to empty
Heart, Have No PityThe train sways from side to side, gray subway lights washing away all color from the world, and the shuffle on his music player is playing only the songs Jesper hates. He hits the skip button again and again, tries to keep his briefcase pinned between his legs. There is a coffee stain on his shirt, but he did not have enough time to sprint to his bedroom and change before he had to leave to make his train on time. He cannot afford to be late again.
Skip-skip-skip. He should stop allowing his sister into his apartment; she always deletes his good music and replaces it with pop that Jesper despises. He thinks he hears his station being called in between the melodious shrieks of ABBA, so he snatches his bag and stumbles out the door, unwinding his headphones and stuffing his music player in his trench coat's pocket.
Jesper takes five steps before he glances up. The train has already rattled out of the station, and he is not in the correct place. He did not even know that the subway runs
Better.I. White dress. You did your makeup in the upstairs bathroom mirror. There is hope on your lips and powder on your skin. You are hiding your imperfections because how else would anyone fall in love with you? White dress you wore to make Tyler put his hands on your waist. White dress you wore in the summer. And in the laundry room, you wash blood off of a boy's hand, licking it once. Red blood you wished would stay in his veins. Red blood that goes straight to his heart where you once were. Red blood in the laundry room, where you make promises you'd never get a chance to keep. White dress you're wearing in the winter. White dress you press against Him when you whisper, "I think You're very handsome." White dress to mark the innocence you wish you could shake. A brown shoe is lost in the snow when you lay next to the handsome boy with the appropriate hands as He whispers, "You're better than you think you are."
II. Black pants. You did your makeup in the airport bathroom. You
UmbrellaheadsWe live in a city of smokestacks and umbrellaheads. A city split in two and turned upside down. A city dazed and unsteady on sixteen million feet, six feet under and darker than that. We live in a city that slept for the first time in nearly a century.
A city of people confused and bemused and infused with "what can I what shall I what must I do now?" It's a city that's hurting and breathing and fishing and wishing and laughing and living and waiting to wake up.
We live in a state of huddling and listening. Watching as the resilient basketball hoop in the driveway snaps in two as the trees behind dance in an insane tango, a physically improbable tango. We live in a state of blank traffic lights and trees flung like toys, leaves upside down and begging to be relieved of the shame of having fallen. We live in a state of emergency.
A state of people who exasperate and exaggerate and desperate to reach their families with no phone no internet no communication no no no. It's a state with th