Lelle
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Name: Kate
Country: France
Metro: Paris
Birthday: 1/1/1988
Gender: Female


Interests: reading, writing, politics, free thought, cities, fashion, wine, art, walking, traveling, conversation, beer, learning, cooking, serendipity
Expertise: arguing, public speaking, rhetoric, seduction
Occupation: optimist, student
Industry: life


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AIM: ktbeebop


Member Since: 11/2/2003

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Thursday, July 09, 2009

e.e. cummings - If you can't eat you got to


If you can't eat you got to

smoke and we aint got
nothing to smoke:come on kid

let's go to sleep
if you can't smoke you got to

Sing and we aint got

nothing to sing;come on kid
let's go to sleep

if you can't sing you got to
die and we aint got

Nothing to die,come on kid

let's go to sleep
if you can't die you got to

dream and we aint got
nothing to dream(come on kid

Let's go to sleep)


Monday, July 06, 2009


And somewhere along the line, the thread broke.
pooled
into worm lines,
condensed distress sound waves looped, looped, pooled
and the humming mechanical noises that rolled, rolled

humming human rhythms of doubt, that high pitched wwwhhiirrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

the thread, Tangled by greater natural forces than itself,
flattened, pooled, and the humming!
walking by, no one noticed a thing.

gravity, that sort this gravity.
taken for granted by humanity, degraded into a question
akin to a tri-town's best place to buy weed
sanity, that brand of insanity


(all the questions ever worth asking are those you learn to forget)

and ribbons, ribbons of heart pump matter FLUSH out into thread, thread
pooled, polled and rolled, oh gravity
scaled for it's background, you see, earth captivity, life size (relevant)
against a tile and infinitesimal against the Tuilerie.

I ONLY ASK YOU TO PLACE YOURSELF

why do you insist upon the impossible task of fortune telling, this that works works NOT
how do you imagine that
I can imagine that

AND TO BE HUMANLY CAREFUL IN YOUR LAZY ABSOLUTISM

and to take of the consequences, to take
responsibility. and it would only take a word, but you test me
thread, pooled, rolled,
and wait for my conviction
a man, but yet, unable to take responsibility
for the weight words
get with
gravity


callas lover

BY D.A. POWELL

this is the track I've had on REPEAT all afternoon:      she is butterfly
brilliant riband, rice flour face, silken, even her voice a sashed kimono

                                          if I were foolish like her:  
                                                               but aren't I foolish like her
                                          spotting the coil of smoke and the billowed sail
                   against the verge of sky

simple on the rise surveying the anchorage:      simple me, signal me
dreading the confident assumption of return, dreading more
uncertain tone to come, the thinning notes, performance
too close to my own impatient—swells, a surge:      sick wind

but the emotion is, after all, an artfully conjured gesture
arranged marriage between a past ache and frail woodwinds
                                          I could skip ahead
                                                               could break the inconsolable loop
of harbor, waiting, overlook, waiting, inevitable waning eye

troubled robins, once more in the handkerchief trees
once more, brief aquarelle of triplet lilies, blue as willowware
in that interval before his embrace falters, stuck, founders
                   [shuffle play]      such a pitch of tenderness in the voice
                                          such an awful lot of noise


"you're already in that circle, of you know, girls who need to prostitute themselves to live somewhere."

ouch.
I believe this is a new record; I am called fat(?) and a whore within one week by the same person.

Loud and clear, amigo. Kutz signing OUT.


foot in mouth overdrive




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