Friday, February 29, 2008


[nap in Republic Plaza Courtyard between classes]


Time in the sun on the hill by the Glasshouse.
Peed in pants when mom showed up at my apartment door [pee from fear since my building requires a key card, and no one has ever knocked on my door]. Lovely dinner followed.


Born in the Flood
[Probably the best live band I've ever seen. Club 156, Boulder. With Neal & Tiny Brother]

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Most of the time
I am pieces of a torn up
orange peel.

Because somewhere,
a stomach I don't know
is digesting the rest of me.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008


they are rebuilding

my city

to the soundtrack of

If this thing should spill... Born in the Flood
Get to the River Before it Runs too Low Sea Wolf
The Sun and the Moon The Bravery
Auditorium Radar Bros.

My kitchen is a graveyard. Its possessions are remnants of the domestic lives of former tenants of this apartment. Every couple of months, a new artifact surfaces that points to the possible character of those who previously inhabited these walls.

I am not the only one who has watched the bus stop through this window. I am not the only one who has slept across from the abandoned bank. And I am not the only one who has lived quietly with the routine of their life.

Among my collection, those fragments of life:
a piece of shattered glass, half coated in wax;
a Corona bottle cap, punctured twice;
a butter knife, dirtied by a thin layer of dust and something once edible.

When I say that these things surface, I'm not lying. These are objects that must have existed previous to my discovering them, but that suddenly appear out of nowhere, calling my attention to them like the clink of a tin can hitting the ground. Not loud. But enough to enter into consciousness.


Saturday, February 23, 2008

It smells like someone else's cigarette smoke in my apartment
even if my mouth was full of sugar, I think I'd still be too tired to fly across the desert
I do believe in the vastness of things
I am in love with Billy the Kid, no matter what.

I feel like there is less water in my life lately.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Some time last week, I bought a homeless man a sandwich because it was nice out. Our conversation went a little like this:

Me: Are you hungry?
Yes? I haven't eaten in three days.
Me: Do you want a sandwich? I'm going to Corner Bakery.
Man: Ok.
Me: Is there anything you don't like? Like anything you don't want on it?
Man [very confused]: Um, no...

So I go buy a ham and swiss sandwich because I feel like a total idiot for asking someone who can't afford to eat if they are picky. And I figure everyone likes that sandwich. Yeah. I am the most smart. So basically, I get him a sandwich and give it to him:

Me: Here you go. I got you some napkins. Goodbye.
Man: Wait.
I turn around.
When you asked if there's anything I don't like. I don't like black olives.

Yeah so just because you're homeless doesn't mean that black olives aren't still gross. That's all I'm saying.

Monday, February 18, 2008

My mom had new phones installed around her office. Talking to the phone guy:

My mom: Can you make the phones ring like in 24? Cause if I just paid all that money for new phones, I want them to ring like the ones in 24.
Phone guy: What?

Saturday, February 16, 2008

Sometimes, I talk to my cat about why commas are important.
Last night I felt like this:

Thursday, February 14, 2008

After cleaning up my cat's vomit from my rug, I read an article that P sent me.

"WASHINGTON (AP) -- The U.S. military is developing contingency plans to deal with the possibility that a large spy satellite expected to fall to Earth in late February or early March could hit North America." - Jan.28th2008

All I can say is, I am someone who is made to recover the satellites. Whatever that means.

I am someone who likes colors

Yesterday it was 65 degrees. It was so sunny that if you took a picture of the sun, it made it look as if it were actually evening. Like so:

Incidentally, by playing with iPhoto, it can also look like:

Such a beautiful day in the middle of February is unusual in a state with harsh winters, like this one. So you won't be shocked when I tell you that when sunny days interrupt cold months, it makes me feel quite like a giant cement person who is dancing. That is, I mean, like this:

Today was 20 degrees.
What all of this means is very simple:

Cease to Begin by Band of Horses & "Summersong" by The Decemberists
turns into
Tin Fist EP by The Acorn & Boxer by The National

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Walking from class the other day, I found a stalagmite.

Except it's not actually a stalagmite.
But neither am I.

In other news: Copper Nickel 9 has been published and shall be celebrated at it's release party on March 7th @ 7pm at Matter Studio in Downtown Denver. Matter Studio is classy. The Copper Nickel is classy. And you are classy if you attend this classy event. will provide all necessary information.

Saturday, February 9, 2008

Because among my posessions
are spoons
and ceiling fans and
everything I seek to recover.

Though everything I recover
is really just a collection of items
on my way from here to there.

From left to right: small silver spoon given to my by my grandma (the last item in her collection of silver), pepper spoon stolen from some restaurant in Vienna over the summer, demitasse spoon stolen from a French restaurant in Denver, [regular sized spoon, stolen from my previous place of employment, included for size comparison purposes]