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My New Best Friend
cap, captain miss america
teaberryblue
Just when I thought I would never find true love:





Awesomest. Name. Ever.

New York, New York, 2007.

They say March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb, but something about this particular March told me that the lion and the lamb were making mad, passionate love on the savannah, the days moving from unseasonable heat to freezing hailstorms as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Of course, the weather didn't do anything for business. Today was cold, not as cold as it had been, but cold enough that Lady Liberty's nips were standing on end underneath that copper gown of hers.

So imagine my surprise when I was unexpectedly interrupted my morning perusal of Flickrbabes by a knock on my office door.

"Come on in," I answered, minimizing the pinups on my laptop screen. I removed my feet from my desk, smoothed down my shirt. Sure, we all do what we have to to keep up appearances.

But I realized that wasn't enough when I saw the doe-eyed dame who came dancing through my door.

"Mr. Smokeless?" she asked, her voice as smoky as my name wasn't. That's me. Sewerage K. Smokeless. And Johnny Cash thought he had it bad when they named him Sue.

Hélène
cap, captain miss america
teaberryblue
How beautiful you are now that you no longer exist
Dust of death has taken you off even your soul
How much after you do they lust, since we vanished
Waters waters are filling up the desert's heart
The palest of women
It is sunny on the water crests of the earth
Of the landscape starved to death
Lining with cross purposes the city of yesteryear
It is sunny on the unexpected green cirques
Converted into churches
It is sunny on the disastrous plateau bared and turned over
Because you are so dead
Pouring suns through the traces of your eyes
And the shadows of high trees rooted
Into the terrible Hair the ones that were turning me frenzy


--Pierre Jean Jouve

For my Aunt Hélène, d. 3-21-07.Collapse )