It is looking pretty definite I am going to have actual poems actualy printed.
I also seem to be getting a virtual girlfriend.
It has been mostly warm for three days.
A Contract from Womenwords Publishing in the post, 'River' is to be published under 'Women Loving' and 'Police' under 'Women Laughing' in Sunrise over Manchu Picchu. I know some people arnt too impressed by all the - send a fiver and a poem and we will publish it stuff, but at this stage its great. That is what you have to do with poetry
just get it published, get it out there.
I made a date,
then cancelled it and put three x's at the end of the email.
I am quite excited by this girl. I dreamt last night that I met her before. She lives in an area where I used to live. I'm sure we kissed next to the river and I came to terms with being femm I believed in marriage. She says shes not a player..
neither am I.
'Transcending' is now 'Ascending'..
less abstract, Just like a climbing a flight of stairs, survival is not a choice something that is 'work' it just happens, evolution baby..
Yea so my girlfriend..
Serious matters though,
I've gotten as far as Chris's wedding in Sunset Song Because I was expecting her to be fucked by her brothers, her dad, the neighbours, the prize bull, the runt sheep, it has been alright actually. Not enough mentions of it being cold, wet or 'dreich' for me though. Her marriage is at new year, the night before she strips of and admires her farming toned flesh, naked, in a bedroom. Maybe I missed the mention of a roaring fire.. half of you purple with 3rd degree burns the other half like frozen chicken.
But its hang around me in a a good way. I weather of course, the girl, the txts, she makes me feel like a lesbian. There is that space though that pain, a man believing he can see through her eyes. A women who knows the earth, the beasts. They cant have it all.
Last night Chris lay in field toned arms of a husband of her choice, hymen intact warmed by a fire built by a housekeeper with a father, mother and dependants all either rotting in their graves or being looked after elsewhere, money in the bank. The changes in point of view early on where so promising. Now I'm just bracing myself for the worst.
I was in the pet shop, getting flee treatment or a frisbee for Poppy. I couldn't take my eyes of them. Two women, who were both man and women. I let myself stare, like a redneck at the Mardi Gras, then apologised. The softer, more confident one just smiled back and said,
I think I may have caused probs, though I heard them arguing outside. The nice one looking pink, strong and indignant. Taking the male/female thing too far.
It's easier in ports isn't it. The honesty forced on by constant change.