rumble tumble

in three nights from tonight, we'll be at the commune. we'll drive down at night, through the mountains filled with deer. we'll arrive and drink some red wine and cuddle on a couch in the big house. we'll wake up and make pies and cauliflowers and eat avocados and cheese and fly kites. we'll make coffee and sit on the deck and look at the ocean. we'll see the ocean. we'll play bocce ball and drink beer from pint glasses and give lots of hugs and run around after lucia. we'll miss our own families and call them and send them our love. we'll laugh and relax and give thanks that extended families are for real. we'll eat those pies and drink those wines and cuddle once more on the couch.

the dust you kick up is too fine

new leaves

let's pretend its summer

brasilia, my heaven. oscar neimeyer, my love.

keep the car running

in our country hello looks just like goodbye
-laurie anderson

breaking away

and gather

oh earth

spooks

seanced

presently

1.dark tiffany aqua blue: the cover color of the postmodern condition: a report on knowledge.

2. carving pumpkins with handlebar mustaches that turn into scary mouths.

3. 69 love songs on repeat- minus about 25 of them.

4. bearded lovers.

5. blue bottle lattes.

6. lagunitas ipa.

7. dinner last night: bean cakes, sweet potatoes, and herb-encrusted corn on the cob + 1 bottle of red.

8. kids incorporated covers!

9. speaking to someone after a hiatus. 1 week or 1 year. pretty much the best.

10. old spice deodorant and the men who wear it.