blogger makes it difficult, nay, impossible to upload music from one's own collection. or they did last time i checked.
otherwise i would put some of her own recitations here. poems that i didn't care about became stronger and meaningful when heard in her own voice, the interesting locations of emphasis, totally unexpected by me. her voice is deep and dark and bloody rich in ariel.
why am i given
these lamps, these planets
falling like blessings, like flakes
on my eyes, my lips, my hair
touching and melting
from the night dances.
one of my oldest friends has disappeared again. he does this every six months or year. completely unbound by societal constraint, he just goes away somewhere. no call or written reply, you never know if he's dead or just gone. anyway, i think of him when i go back to my favorite old subjects. i hate the way some people will tell the same goddamned stories over and over, like a drunken alzheimer patient, but i have certain pet topics that i love to talk about even though there is nothing new to review. i think this is like sifting through old photos of loved ones.