BWAHAHAHAHAHAAA!
Refrigerator Poetry
The company I contract for has changed its business model with resulting upset amongst both the noble and common populace of its fair Santa Monica Cubicle Kingdom. Some while ago, a noble long since lost to a diplomatic incident with another Cubicle Kingdom tossed a couple of packages of Refrigerator Poetry magnets up on the refrigerators in the Castle Kitchen. The mood is relentlessly grim above the salt, and the peasants are revolting - bitter, angry, mournful and otherwise emo messages are scattered in staccatto black and white all over the hummy boxes that hold food.
I am tired of the negative vibe. I get it, sometimes I share it, but it damned sure doesn’t make me wanna go to work to earn my ducats. So today I did my part to move a little energy around the space while I waited for the other half of Monday’s lunch to heat up in the cleaner microwave. Since all my poetry seems to be about sex or death and I wanted to lighten the place up a bit, and also because the world needs more refrigerator poetry, I offer my effort:
refrigerator poem #1
drunk on need
and
luscious red wanting
my languid tongue
your
iron will
raw juices run
honey
smeared over
your skin
the urge
to watch you
ache
rock
sweat
scream
under me
Not sure if I should actually number it, as that is both pretentious and implies there will be more. While pretentious in this context could be interpreted as mildly ironic in a post-deconstructionist sort of way, I may not want to write (stick, assemble, manipulate?) any more refrigerator poems. At least not in the office, if I’m going stick to my usual themes. And our dogs will peel and eat anything remotely reachable on our refrigerator at home. On the other hand, a limerick about a serial killer who sticks his victims in abandoned refrigerators might be kinda fun for #2 - switch it up a bit, zazapow!
Getting Away With It
Like there was ever any doubt. At least I’m in good company.
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None: You could easily get away with murder. You have the cold and calculating logic of a sociopath. For all our sakes, go hug someone. |
At Least It’s A Prime
Number, that is. As opposed to rib, or Optimus. I’ve been blogging here for seven (7!) years. A lot of that has been utter crap, a waste of electricity and brainspace - me being nervously, self-consciously cute or perky or snarky or overwrought - but there are a few things here and there I look back on and wonder… what the fuck I was thinking? So much of what’s happened since September of 2000 has barely been mentioned here, as I’ve always been very conscious of what I’ve put out there and about whom. But scanning the posts I wrote during some fairly difficult times, I’m pretty sure I could have spent more time writing what I really was thinking without compromising anybody else’s privacy. What a fine and funky line to walk. Think I’ll be doing a lot more paring down of my old posts. Nobody really cares what color my aura was in August of 2003 - there is no posterity for which to preserve that tidbit. Pictures of my dogs, on the other hand, the world cannot live without.
Well There Ya Go
Not for lack of anything better to post, but just because - found at Keziah Hill’s blog:
You are The Empress
Beauty, happiness, pleasure, success, luxury, dissipation.
The Empress is associated with Venus, the feminine planet, so it represents,
beauty, charm, pleasure, luxury, and delight. You may be good at home
decorating, art or anything to do with making things beautiful.
The Empress is a creator, be it creation of life, of romance, of art or business. While the Magician is the primal spark, the idea made real, and the High Priestess is the one who gives the idea a form, the Empress is the womb where it gestates and grows till it is ready to be born. This is why her symbol is Venus, goddess of beautiful things as well as love. Even so, the Empress is more Demeter, goddess of abundance, then sensual Venus. She is the giver of Earthly gifts, yet at the same time, she can, in anger withhold, as Demeter did when her daughter, Persephone, was kidnapped. In fury and grief, she kept the Earth barren till her child was returned to her.
What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.