a lack of history

who is this weirdo?

check out strawberrycherry.blogspot.com to learn more
soon to be transferred to the friendlier and less cranky land of live journal

xoxo
cincharoo

(no subject)

this day is too nice too hot to be cooped up in an old victorian office trying to help the queers find some semblance of space for a community that right at this moment would rather be at the beach like i would instead of futzing with a stack of papers that no one else wanted to organize sheesh i'd rather join lofiordie out at the ocean instead i just join him on smoke breaks envy his lucky strike while we both envy the unemployed

brainstorm

i am looking for a good quote to use to thank folks for giving $$$ to the queer community center

ideas?

Mel's Night

I, I am a ladies man. Sailor tough, I have Bobby Mitchums eyes and Farley Grangers hair. I usually go to this local bar, JoJo's. Marlene is the bartender there, she's always makin eyes. Some nights, I make 'em back. But not tonight. Tonight is a driving night. Hitting the road, under the stars. The cool night air blows the ash off of my cigarettes cherry as it rests behind the sideview mirror while my gut rests warm with whiskey.
I can't stop thinking of her tonight. Back about a million years ago, she would ride shotgun and laugh as she lit two cigarettes at once in her mouth, and then handed me one. Her one-two zippo trick always made her smile. Then she would say "I'm glad I amuse myself" and chuckle lowly bfore leaning back to enjoy her smoke and bask in time.
Time felt endless then. Tonight I am driving down that same road chasing ghosts.

two poems

Driving Again:

He was Roberto Benini
in a bad life
and me
I was writing poetry
on my leg
while I drove
again

This was becoming a habit as
my inspiration
was beginning to need
narrow lanes
and heavy traffic

The fast smell
of cheap cigarette smoke
came in like a memory
and smelled like Pat
who did occasionally change brands
but like a chemical reaction
always smelled the same
as if his own
potion of person
made every cigarette
a unique perfume
all his own.

*************************
Ypsilanti, MI to Potrero Hill:

I first saw you
in Ypsilanti Michigan
your bravado swinging
like an ax
through the air

I couldn't take my eyes off of you
except to cruise
the baby dykes
older than me
throwing attitude
like water
in my face

I watched you
from the crowd
of familiar
well known strangers
these cafes and clubs
don't change
anything except the paint job

We cross paths
now
nine years later
with witty banter
a smile or laugh
some spray paint
you don't know how many times we've met

My idea of how to be artist
scares me from you
or used to...

But I'm different now
we
in a way as peers
and I scared myself
in the mirror yesterday

What was a poet
doing in my bathroom?

art fags

what is another term for young queer artists? playful yet not quite as pejorative

i'll compile all of the ideas into a listy

spaz

ok - obviously I am not going to get a lot done at work today

so.... wanna know what the #1 Pop Rock Hit was when YOU were born... check it out http://www.alienwebshop.com/~david/charts/70s.htm

For me - in the UK it was The Osmonds "Love Me For No Reason" and in the US Paul Anka's "Having my Baby"

 

wow