Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Thursday, October 9, 2008

repeating repeats

Been watching some old Rockford Files lately. Its pure pleasure. Sometimes I can flash on the little Lauri I used to be when I last watched these shows. That was before I knew how to worry so much.

Have moved my office at work to an office with windows. One window is at the perfect angle to look out of and space out at. It looks upon a middle school made of lovely brick and big windows and I see kids and parents and teachers walk around in the frame occasionally. Right now bright orange leaves are being blown past the window in a lazy yet determined way with the building as a background to this action. It borders on fascinating.

School Busses Only.

Monday, September 29, 2008

edit photo, medic dodo

i used to think i was so smart
now i'm successful when the laundry is done
surrounded by sleeping dogs
who must be uprooted for my comfort and sleep

i used to think i had the answer

Monday, September 15, 2008

the light comes in through the hall
banks against my bed, ruffles up a sheet
brushing yesterday's hair
listening to the town's work outside

I feel the september breeze
and it is familiar
I hear the geese fly by
and they are familiar
I would be going back to work today
if i had taken last week
off on vacation
or i would be still on holiday
if i had taken the month off
I smell the coffee rise from below
and it is welcomingly familiar

towns' trucks rumble by too speedily
on the road while kids trudge to school
there is so much to do
the list lengthens but i smile
and remember my favorite month
is about.

Monday, June 30, 2008

Hotter than a pepper sprout

Dogs are funny.

Today, I came home from work the dogs were very excited as usual. Peretz was a little more earnest than usual and calmed down considerably when I let them both out into the backyard. He stayed outside, looking expectantly at the driveway until David came home (30-35 minutes later). Right now Peretz is near me and the tv while Pickles is upstairs doubtless under the covers with David.

Pickles and I walked to Fosters and back. I brought a bag to put my groceries into. I noticed there was a new rule posted up on the registers, something about a charge being rendered if folks want their paperbags with a plastic bag. You can have a plastic bag or a paperbag but not the double bag deal unless you pay. I felt so righteous as I stuffed my good vibrations bag full of corn meal, garlic, parsley, etc and hooked it over my arms.

I came back and made corncake/strawberry muffins which I don't like at all. I also made garlic/parsley spaghetti which I loved very much. It cooked long enough to get a little sticky and crunchy.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Thursday, April 17, 2008

looking down on creation

worn smooth like an old purse
and drunk up like the first cup of coffee
the alarm goes off unceasingly
but although the skin is rough
and the abrasions unbridled
the unguent is not called for
the balm is not took up
although well at hand

Monday, March 24, 2008

left out of the joke

Back at work and the overwhelming-ness is daunting.

The vacation is being asked about by the co-workers. It's funny how one works up an appropriate response. "it was relaxing." "it was good" etc. "the weather was pleasant and it was very nice not to fall on ice," for the people who can take my flippancy.

I don't know, I'm worried. I thought I had a firm plan about things but as ever, lovely entropy has made its will known and things are unraveling. As I unpacked yesterday and looked at my delightful acquisitions I was a little sad to have been by myself, the dog doesn't really react to cute magnets and gleaned moss. He was happy to have me home, though.

It's nice to be home with Pickles. I'm looking forward to the end of the month. The roommate wasn't around much last night and I didn't see him this morning but I will be happy to be alone in the Bricker with the dog. How odd to crave the alone-ness and still bemoan the solitude.

I just feel like there is a big joke being played out that everyone knows about but me. I did do a lot of laughing on vacation and yet I still am left out of the joke.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

3 Dogs on a Rainy Day

Barbeque tonight.
And I'm not talking about the stuff you get at a restaurant, albeit tasty as can be.
But stuff from the grill on the back porch, the stuff you stand close to while you wait to flip it because it's gotten damn cold out.
Barbeque tonight.
The only vacation I have took where the only decision making I am allowed is when and how much and which flavor beer to drink.
The first vacation I have taken as an adult where I wasn't the boss.
Barbeque tonight.
Many many discussions and illuminations and the relationship continues on a path I haven't exactly mapped. I was told the general direction but I find myself trailing along. Broken ankle doesn't help.

Thursday, March 6, 2008

Not Rated PG

"It's one of my favorites. It's got an abduction scene which is pretty hot."
He raised his eyebrow and laughed, or pretended. I wondered if that was flirting. Was I flirting?

Two nights ago I wanted to have sex with myself so I crawled under my covers, kicked the cat off the top and turned on the vibrator. In order to come, I have to stimulate my brain and so I started to drum up a fantasy. The roofers who were to come replace the rubber roof on top of my 3 story home were coming the next morning at 8 am and I was planning to be up, showered, dressed and drinking coffee before they arrived.

What if they came and there were 3 or 4 guys, the main ringleader guy being about my age...late 30s or early 40s but very youthful, virile and agile for his beefy size. They set up a big ladder. This ladder was as stable as the Mount Rushmore. Nothing was going to move it anywhere and there was one guy on the crew who was in charge of the ladder: holding it when need be, planting it, keeping it stable at all times. He was the ladder guy. He had an important job. He wore safety glasses and a winter hat. When I came outside on my way to work, he bade me to come over and look at the ladder. I did and it indeed looked stable. Two guys came down it easily. One was my hero, the leader and the other was obviously his second hand. Second was carrying a camera.
"Show her the picture of.." Leader told him. And he did. The picture was easy to see and a joy to behold.
"Wow, that's awesome. Can you take a hundred or so more up there and email them to me? You make it so clear what I'm looking at.." I saw one where the photo looked down the skylight into my bedroom. I got a sense of a wide flat space from all the photos. "It looks so cool."
Leader must have heard the wistfulness in my voice. "Come on," he offered conspiratorially, "Let's go up, I'll show you."
I was shocked. "No! I'm wicked scared."
"It's fine. It's flat. Just stay away from the edges. Most owners want to see."
"I do want to see. It's too high up." I started to yearn to go up.
He gave me permission. "I'll follow right behind you. I'll keep track of everything." I looked at him. He looked reassuringly at me. His clean cut face had some nice lines around the cheeks and his eyelashes were very dark and long. He smiled. "What's the scariest part?" He asked me.
I thought about it. "Getting back on the ladder to start down."
"Oh, because you have to manipulate your body in a strange way onto the ladder, I see."
He was reassuring. He really did seem to understand. He pointed at the top of the ladder and showed me how one simply steps forward off of it onto the roof and just backed onto it, holding onto the rails, not like a ladder where you have to tip yourself up and off or down and on...It looked doable. "Go ahead."

No one else came up. Just he and I. I realized that they all knew what he was going to do. I was the only one surprised and although when he touched my side and my arm and my back, all in attempts to steady me, his hand stayed too long, wore too hot. He showed me things about my chimney and looked into my eyes and we kissed and he fondled and he brought out a condom and although I knew I was just another score for him: "Housewives Fucked By Leader On Their Roofs", I was willing. It was my fucking house, my fucking roof. I was on top of my world and he has a condom, so what could it hurt?

We found a spot against the skylight where it was warm from the sun and stable. We pushed aside our clothes but not too much. I didn't come but I was excited.

Downstairs, on the ground, later, I told my boyfriend. "What else could I do?" I asked. "I see." he said, biting his lip. "And you think I'm going to fuck you now after you have cheated on me?" He said, his voice a dark tease. "I hope so." We were already in bed, it was a done deal. He pulled off my shirt until my arms were still entwined in them and he stared at me hard for a long time. I stared back. He squeezed very soft parts of my flesh. This was when I came.

remind me, again

I waited in the hall for him to get out of the bathroom. It took a while. I wandered into the baby room and gawked at the horrible window. It was frightening to see. I vowed to call my favorite window replacement guy that day.

He came out and I passed him in the hall. I went by him slow but he went by me fast. We made eye contact, enough for us both to acknowledge. "I need that rent money." I said. Eye contact finished, he went into his room and closed the door. I stood outside, stunned. Did that really just happening? Maybe he needed to close the door so he could reach behind it for his wallet. Maybe he was getting his money out of the secret floor board stash and didn't want me to see. I waited for a moment or two. The finality of the door tongue clicking into place astounded me. I was not used to being brushed aside and ignored. I generally disappeared from any people who would treat me in such a way. I'd rather be alone, disregarding myself, than to inhabit a world where I had to try to understand such behavior. I heard the tv click on and knocked hard on his door.

"Yeah?" He muttered through the door. I thought about how he looked when he had brushed past me: not showered, nor dressed, eyes red, kind of bleat. He was obviously not on his way anywhere such as his usual job, gym, etc. Was he ill? What was afoot?

I put on a voice. "Hi! It's me. I really need that rent money."

Silence for half a beat. "I got to get a check from a guy." He offered. I smelled bullshit but couldn't call him on it at this point.

"So, tonight, then?" I prodded.

"Well, I was going to see him tomorrow about that check so Saturday."

I didn't answer. I walked away.

Sunday, January 20, 2008

Dropping the Ball

I'm getting older
I've never felt like this before
I want to shut up and shut down
No impulses allowed to emerge or enter

I want to keep my robe on all day
Pull a Harry or a Brian
Listen to Harry or to Brian
Let things become soothed and refreshed

I want to drink coffee and smoke
I want to feel a hot shower without guilt or alarm
I want to sit at my desk and feel complete
Don't knock on my door today

Saturday, January 19, 2008


sur·feit(sûr'fĭt)v.sur·feit·ed, sur·feit·ing, sur·feits v.
To feed or supply to excess, satiety, or disgust

"Tell me now if you have a crush on me"
from under a rock we emerge
self-oriented, we shake off the snow
and put away our gloves and shovels

looking around more than usual
it's the light that encourages us to see
there was someone we forgot about
and who was alone for too long

A flurry of chatter, the lost communique
no one has all the information and yet
it is well known the status of someone's
it is well known by the stature of someone's

whimsical queries and warm bilge
steadfast flirting coming from nature
and he called me "dollface"
and it didn't wake up the behemoth

Wednesday, January 2, 2008

sunset comes early

I take a small break at my desk at work. My hands are dry so I remove my favorite ring, which is a little too large and I leave the other ring on, which is a little too small and I rub my hands with Weleda Skin food, a moisturizer I never buy for myself, I can't afford the cadillac of lotions, it was a xmas present.

I look carefully at my fingers and on the third finger of my right hand I see the tiniest of bite marks on my fingernail. It is a bright pink crescent, looking like it would if i had dropped a heavy glass onto it just the right way, or perhaps had closed a cabinet door or drawer on it. But the injury is from a lover and I remember the bite and although it is pleasant and lovely I attempt not to spend. My finger shows me a sunset reminding my guts of the wintertime and its short sunny days.