13.12.05 - 10:17 p.m.

new spark plugs and little boys who flirt with me, not even old enough to drive. wearing sweatpants out of the house, but only to and from the newly sparkplugged car, up steps and into dark rooms. past drunkards leaning over the upstairs railing, telling me to come have a drink. i say maybe if i weren't wearing sweatpants. thank you! and they wave emphatically. soon i'll go home, set out my skirt, my secretary blouse and tights. no more longjohns during the day. no more riding to work; just driving. i'll get in bed and call you and fall asleep with the express purpose of dreaming.

the life quixotic
previous next

the project museum

the revolution will be catalogued

this american life

the library of congress

i used to believe







Site Meter