BY m

12/01 Direct Link
haven’t played like that for years. walked into the interview saying to myself, “good thing this doesn’t matter, because i know nothing of what he’ll ask, nothing of the stuff i need to know to get this money.” and we played. number games, logic games. drew a protein for my favorite polymer. we talked about seti @ home, how hot it is that people all over the world are doing science. all types. was so happy, smiling, validated. pulled the important stuff out of my head: force of motion. what keeps the moon up? am, in fact, a smart kid.
12/02 Direct Link

Ollie, not to be confused with Olive the Other Reindeer (R), is Dave Lyman in disguise. This is how it happened: Dave got double his money for the Sean Combs video, remember the call for youknows, by clubbing Rudy and tying his shoelaces together. As he was about to leave, there was TONY HAWK HIMSELF, in twenty-pound glory. Only three sentences from Dave about Rudy, the box of vomit, and the cattle prod . . . and TH swept the two (hard due to the shoelaces and Rudy’s moaning) away to record Dave’s voice and take the prelim pics. Honest.
12/03 Direct Link
for three i offer:

three records i love right now: belle and sebastian’s boy with the arab strap (yes!). phish’s farmhouse (we have cluster flies alas). bf5’s whatever and ever amen (rocking out).

three people now: me, jeff, hubert.

three people home: me, papa, julers

three phrases to use allthetime: f this s. manoman, mother bitch (this last one jeff’s. you knew it was).

three ways to make me happy with beverage selection: eggnog. diet orange slice. cold, cold, teeth-hurt water.

three people i want to get to know better: sandra. sturgeon. mannella.

three loves in life: handtochest. starscapes. warmtothetouch.
12/04 Direct Link
bless your soul. leave me a message. peace be with you.

my message, then. i am amazed and stupended by this world, the strengths i seek. there are far wide shores within me and in front of me. sunsets dazzle me, always, especially here, where my heart is split and my paint poured above my head to every color i've ever seen in the sky, together in incredible combinatorics. my soul is blessed, and yours, and the beings around us are real and in keeping with our voice. no words for this, no breath for the sense...
shantih shantih shantih
12/05 Direct Link
howareyou whattodo iloveyou

there is no expounding on “eh.”
there is no articulate “fweh.”
you can try and can think
and can look in your drink
and will not look up,
just answer “bleh.”

there is no explaining “dunno,”
there’s never enough gumpt to show,
we just sit there, between us
this curtain that means us
can just sit here,
go with the flow.

but some stuff is really quite grand,
like the tingle from seeing this hand
reaching out over me,
owner won’t ever see
that i’m grinning, and
ready to land.

ssL sorry so lame. it was fun.
12/06 Direct Link
profiles from pollock lab:
clackity clack clack
this one’s definitely a jersey girl: math teachers make a lot of money. yeah i don’t need to take real classes. (sips water) yeah i just took general knowledge.
clack click click
saundra, who rules: i slept all this weekend. now i just need to get that “yes, i am from this planet” look on my face. i will be all set.
clackity clack (pause)
are we done yet? is it time to go home to our families? (girl groves, snatching her shoulders, pushing them forward into shared air)
click clackity clack logoff
12/07 Direct Link

talk with our hands. especially when
are trying to make a point,
pound that point against his chest.
sing with our still body against his, him reading, me slumbering. before that, so unbearably happy that he has wandered down the street to me. feels like old times with someone novel. after that, this morning, feeling him come to as
smooch him, loud and puckered, on the cheek. the corners of his eyes light up long before his slow smile. pick up his book, start from the beginning.
will ask our questions about it later.
12/08 Direct Link
and another thing about the snow that blankets state college between me schlepping my bicycling ass up to the forum at that ungodly hour and emerging, hungry and not nearly so blown as i thought i might be. it hasn’t been the holidays, it hasn’t been finals. but then the snow comes, and my roommates and i go to buy coffee, something hot to carry throught the wet masses coming down. we know there’ll be green ground exclusively tomorrow, too wet to stick, only my damp coat will remember. but i sing carols. loudly. people smile. this time. at last.
12/09 Direct Link
lucy baker is amazing. we sit across a cup of coffee and a glass of water at the diner, smiling, looking vaguely alike. we talk about the lives we’ve been living down the street from each other for months, like she only just got back from europe. idiots. then back to snatchily’s, where flip is santa, belly and beard and boots, and is yelling, “parliaments and johnny walker black is what santa wants ho ho ho.” the holidays are upon us at last. my heart is heavy and light by turns. can’t wait to shed this layer of collegiate schooling.
12/10 Direct Link
oh, down the lane
no worries in my head of late
i’ve been prone to waning
of mischief

and can’t help
the see of shining
when all i’ve got are

and wandering’s no fun
unless the whole sky’s
in my pocket, fresh
like hand picked lamb
pricked sweet

and eggs contain my secret
toys to reassemble
set aside to fry
out on the top of your
warm stereo

and i’m wandering through
sleepless places
splaced up like
those boots with all the
shine velcro and
oozing dough

and i’m maybe not
hearing you correctly.
the question again?
12/11 Direct Link

i love dogs, a lot. mine, anyway. smart, sweet, fallable. i like cows and horses too. i don't like tropical birds. and i don't like small rodents - but guinea pigs are sweet, purr, have likes and dislikes, personality. but gerbils, rats? gross. i like most sea creatures, and lizards too. i like gigantic sea turtles hahah yes! i like giraffes, and always tigers, but that's dull. i don't like wolves, like whales with string teeth. haha i like all the suckers on octopi and starfish too. there are some gorgeous little red and blue ones with slim arms.
12/12 Direct Link

she is funny and creative and unsure. glad when i am home because we can go out and play and share some space and some bagels. her friends are cool, she’s cool. worry when she calls in tears. question her by accident, try to catch myself, end up the asshole older sister who does everything better…yeah right, like i could ever create the way she does, ever smile the way she does, the one that wins people over and bowls me over. she caught me lying, time and time again. she is someone i’d like you all to meet.
12/13 Direct Link
One of these mornings I’m going to rise up singing. Until then, I just hope Dave Lyman gets out of the street. Look at him just lying there, yo, face up to the sky. I’m hoping it doesn’t rain, because the absolute last thing in the world I want is a Dave Lyman Turkey Death funeral. You know what I mean: gobble gobble gobble gag. Staring up to the sky. Says, “This ground is not the rock I thought it to be.” Uh, Dave, love? That’s pavement, and there’s a rig headed right at you with Calvin pissing mud flaps.
12/14 Direct Link
tonight is rough there is no sleeping no common ground i nearly failed out of school, does everyone realize that? precariously close. almost threw my future away. good to be back on track, good to stretch to meet these deadlines, saranwrap myself over my day and stick to it because i messed up enough the first time and i can’t help but shake my head over it. what was i thinking? wasn’t greg, wasn’t grandma. it was me. even before. all me. i missed out. what was i thinking? did i even wonder? i am silly but lost? not now.
12/15 Direct Link
AND ANOTHER THING: i am old enough now to be taking care of myself. this is ridiculous. i need to come up with some way of making my personal ends meet; i’ve been a child in the way i hate other people for being children are. oh my goodness. sorry, self, because for the first time when it mattered i let you down. this is intensely unfortunate. i’ve done a good job of keeping things together. i found footing, and now what?

sorry these haven’t been clever, folks. i need this here to remind me when i dig through later.
12/16 Direct Link
i can’t help the
wonder of taking
the bus.
today’s talkers:
someone named butter
because when she was
small and they put the
country crock on
tall things she would
climb them and
hide under the
bed with a
spoon and the

a girl who is
going to be an
actuary. Her mom
works as a
tinsmith, which means
she makes the
heating ducts. then
she hangs upside-
down like a
bat from the
ceiling in order to
hang them.
she is west
indian and eats
organic food.

they are gorgeous.
i am glad.
we talk three hours.
12/17 Direct Link
(think belle and sebastian or the magnetic fields. thanks.)

i never thought before
that one small furry thing
or two
or three
could make me feel as though
i wasn’t here
just me

i wake up in the morning
they’re sitting on my head
i want to try to move them
they sit right on my bed
after they’ve rolled around
in whatever smells
in our backyard.

they’re gorgeous and they
know it, even though
they reek
and drool
they smile in their allstar
secret way
the way
dogs do


i love them so (x5)
12/18 Direct Link

(actually, julia hits a parked benz. tapped, really)

we go to
crossgates and
borders and
downtown albany and
colonie center and
we are
and mike is
we go to
price chopper and
a c moore, where
we buy enough
crafty things to keep
us busy for weeks.
we make a wreath.
because he is
and we are driving around,
just the two of us.
i run errands,
not stop signs,
and life is perfect.

tell me again
why i didn’t drive before.
12/19 Direct Link
you being you. that's pretty darn good.

i love them so much, i make the holidays or i try to, i bake cookies and give backrubs and string christmas lights, i listen to the stories they’ve told each other and the stories they haven’t. i watch the dogs, who rolled in goose feces yesterday, circle three times before PLOMPing themselves down onto the couch where i sleep, shabby sleeping bag around my chin. i wish i were a million places, yardley, williamsport, wherever dailey calls home, state college, asleep already. i love it here too. my family. they are lifeline.
12/20 Direct Link
sweet dreams are made of lizard skin, they’re cool to the touch but warmed by the sun, like tim merz, who runs on solar power…(didn’t you know?) it’s his MAGIC BOOTS… more on the MAGIC BOOTS now. they are red. i made fun of them once – not THINKING – and the next thing i knew i was at taco bell, surrounded by the SIDEBURN BOYS, they are BIG, and they were smotherin me in burritos and told me that if i ever made fun of the boss or the MAGIC BOOTS again, it was yo quiro. man, i miss that kid.
12/21 Direct Link
i love you and hope you smiled,
for real,
at least once today.
because you deserve to smile,
so hard your face hurts,
the one i’ve been smiling for months
in between brushing my teeth
and brushing my teeth.
life is great,
i am awake,
and i am so gladsure
of you in my sense
of what’s right.
it’s sweet and
funny and
knocks me into
sense instead of
knocking sense out.
on the cheek,
the one that makes your eyes crinkle,
the one that reflects
your eyecolors
when the sun is behind us
on the walk in.
12/22 Direct Link
liz and andy and i. the mall. we got the "coach's spot" (right next to the mall entrance).

we cheered, walked into the mall.

mall got busy, and when we left, a mob waited for our parking space.

we carefully removed our outerwear,
piled our three bags in,
selected a radio station.

then andy got out
with the ice scraper
(it is 40 degrees outside, no snow for forever),
carefully scraped nonexistant ice off back,
then front windshield.,
yelled to us in the front, "is that okay?"

was the line of SUVs laughing? i didn't turn around to look.
12/23 Direct Link
this holiday is characterized by: our ugly plastic needle-shedding dusty fading tree, which subha battu thought was the most beautiful thing, forget that we light a pine candle so that it feels like the holidays at long awaited last! and the best thing is that at julia’s party, we left a ream of xerox paper and some scissors and some tape out, and people one by one cut close to fifty snowflakes, and we taped them in the picture window, and when the sun hits them it casts gorgeous shadows across the walls. papa says they make christmas. he’s right.
12/24 Direct Link
this means more this year, there is a good chance i will not be here to see it again: reds, greens, people in their best, at their best, sharing candles and hymnals and smiles in the dark. and as i open my mouth to sing, i share a smile with rima, down in the pews, and we both open our mouths and belt out the songs we’ve sung for years, the songs we’ll sing silently in our dreams tonight and in our patient love for our families and for food tomorrow, in love with the fallibility of the whole thing.
12/25 Direct Link
Once in royal David's city
Stood a lowly cattle shed,
Where a mother laid her baby
In a manger for His bed:
Mary was that mother mild,
Jesus Christ her little child.

He came down to earth from heaven,
Who is God and Lord of all,
And His shelter was a stable,
And His cradle was a stall;
With the poor, and mean, and lowly,
Lived on earth our Savior Holy.

And our eyes at last shall see Him,
Through His own redeeming love . . .
And He leads His children on
To the place where He is gone.
12/26 Direct Link

fight! i am serious. let’s tie these remnants of the holidays around our hands, secure them with magic tape and curling ribbon, and get to it. fight! because who’s got time to push through the shoppers, step over the little kids tethered to their strollers and their balloons, let’s just head out swinging. fight! a little exercise, merchandise sailing through the air like trailing kites, let’s box, let’s fight, let’s circle each other like the toy train rounds the tree, annoying and thick on the horn this late in the season. fight! you wan summa dis?
12/27 Direct Link
somehow you got through to me
just be stunned that i am
stunned by you

i am terrified of myself
when i am forced to look.
you are the first person to
do something about it.

you are strong enough to
quiet me and foreign enough
to approach precipices
with the answers i know are
just beneath your surface.,
threading through you like veins.
i can smell them as you sleep,
silent under skin.

you bring me joy.
sometimes it is too deep.
sometimes it is jagged.
sometimes it is smooth like
your voice in my mind.
12/28 Direct Link
there is nothing more aggravating than wandering around jc penney’s with a hundred bucks to spend. there were jeans with fur on them, tee shirts that said “did you hear, jane kissed jack, jack broke up with jane, jane (insert pink heart with red NO cross over it, like no smoking, no u turns) jack (?)” and dragon designs with “year of the hottie” across the chest. there were shoes that did not fit, sweaters that i could not care for if i brought them home, older women with puffy hair and younger girls with rings on all their fingers.
12/29 Direct Link

K - What's the protein?
G - ?
K - The protein.
G - Wow, you are so half-awake.
K - No, on the sedimentary you just turned off. You just turned off the sedimentary, what was the protein?
G - I'm going to write this down so you can laugh.

G - How do I turn it off? How do I turn off the sedimentary?
K - The button.
G - What button, where's the button?
K- I'm sure it's accessible through the department somehow.

G - Will you tell me about the proteins later?
K - Uhhhhghhgh.
12/30 Direct Link
DUBLINERS (JOYCE) i forget how much i love reading. i always have – i was the kid that hung out in the library, tried to work there. but for the first time, for real, words on a page reached out and put me in the character. i’ve cried over books before, read them with intent interest, but this was different. funny, too, because what got to me was the lack of description, hemmingwayesque structures, “the tip of the iceburg.” and then i’ll go back to school, and my bookshelves will be gathering dust, and my textbooks will be creased and worn.
12/31 Direct Link
this is our new year’s eve: papa is at some parties with his guitar, he will be back before midnight and miserable, or will find someone to go home with. julia, ben, and three of their friends and i are in the kitchen, making collages with new gluesticks. we only have two pairs of scissors. then we break out the store-bought cake, light birthday candles in the shape 2002 (arranged by julia, our little martha), and sing happy birthday. no alcohol, no dick clark, no confetti or kiss for me. just a quiet, happy evening. the air will sing tomorrow.