today’s ensemble: Exene dress

Hot like a kitty
flat like a sound
crowded like a toolkit

vapidity of love as polemic,
I’m an eminent sore, sticking
out. Semiticism of rapid conversation:
sore caves, sore curves, sore flatness. soreness.
Porn girl looks up at camera for a sec, then gets back to business.
The misty mountains are misaligned. Explain.

Barack Obama drinks a Bud Lite.
Everything too meaningful, like panties
on a lamb (wilder). Lernen Sie Englisch, yeah, OK.
Millions old every month
confusing MIDRASH and MIDRIFF.
I cover my cleavage out of respect for others…

Like bobby pins on a yarmulke, these are
the days of our “lives”:
neurotic golden behavior as sought-for hornbill

EAT the candle
PRAY the html
love whimpering mightily

rocks tumble into hipsters
underwear now in a spoon.

mind asks for a different dogstar
because quiddity is so serviceable

and then I want quince. Jerking.

today's ensemble

Today I’m wearing my “Exene dress.” Fine and sheer black cotton faux vintage, lined, with sheer puff sleeve and lace hem. Plastic faux-jet buttons and pintucks at front and above hem.

I saw X play live several times in the late 70s and early 80s. Exene always had these wonderful crow-like vintage dresses, sometimes in several layers,like a Heian jidai noble, and an assortment of bracelets,ivory and red and totally various, each so different from the other as to create strange orchestras of decoration on her arms.

I remember driving down from the Bay Area with friends to hang out in LA. We went to… what was that little club in Chinatown? The Germs played. Also maybe The Middle Class, and the Controllers? We had frozen beer for breakfast. Penelope of the Avengers teased me for some reason. We hung out with Billy Zoom, making fake snow angels on the living room floor. I remember I had on a Burgundy suede fringeg jacket. Hair dyed to match. A friend who dealt drugs wore a striped Johnny Rotten mohair sweater and brothel creepers. Did we actually eat anything? I can’t remember.

Anyway, I’m drunk on tawny port having helped Gary celebrate his birthday at St. Dymphnaa with Franklin and Jordan and Adeena. Since I almost never drink I feel weird. Now must post this before midnight for the integrity of the project, then try to sleep it off. Later!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s