MUCH FINER

all down fifth avenue, black is the new rainbow.

shorter and tighter, new york! (you'd think they wouldn't have to be told.) up and in, pride!

a dark cloud coming through it giving the thumbs up.

coming through it! ...

WAY TO GO OHIO, part 15

it wasn't the afternoon that i spent in the upstairs office of the cat palace trying to take glamor shots of the cats (the three of the four whose fur matched the wig) that caused me to realize that i might need some time outside. it was the night that i started texting the photos. nearly alone and nearly disconnected, having eschewed all but the most necessary of the internet's nonsenses, i had somehow become the internet itself. say you wanna get in, and you're gonna get out... but don't. it's a trap. then, curiouser and curiouser, i leave, and i leave the keys behind me, but then i'm driving north on 71 into downtown later in the day, and somewhere in the rain near lou berliner park i'm overcome by an unquestionably happy wistfulness at the sight of the skyline. catch that outbound plane before love starts flying of its own free will. bah. "love? not much. trickery, yes, some." and those cats aren't going to use what they make from those photos to refund my ticket. lolz. greetings from everywhere and nowhere. regards, the internet.

SUMMER FUN SUN BUZZWORD BEACH COCONUT

"squirrel! ...don't eat THAT!" she bolted up from her chair beside the paper press and was screaming as she ran out of the house. but after she'd made it out the front door and onto the porch she might have been screaming mixed messages. "that isn't FOOD!" she shreiked as she pelted the squirrel in the mimosa tree with squirrel food. but there was the desired effect, and the beast dropped the rose. a neighbor tried to pass unnoticed along the sidewalk on the other side of the hedges, but i could see her through the big bay window that frames the rose bush under the mimosa tree as she quickened her pace. summertime, and the living is...distracted. and it tries to go unnoticed. meanwhile, all kinds of things are passing the cat palace by, but i haven't been paying much attention, whether i notice or not. i guess that robbie rogers can expect me in l.a. now. and i guess that everyone else can't expect much. distracted, i can't read books, because the theft of these stolen magazines needs justification. which happens in a chair on the lawn, on the opposite side of the walkway from the mimosa tree. i get sweaty, so i take off my pants. photographs. the neighborhood. later i'll get the pants back out of the freezer and press them so that they're perfect. i'll walk to the door of the bar imagining the looks, then i'll turn around, walk back to the palace, and carefully put my pants away. maybe i'll pick up a book. me, one hand, and the other one for anaïs nin. artists and models... goodbye, world! hello summer. pick me up at lax so that i don't have to take the bus to hollywood.