Talkin' 'bout identity theft...

-Is a lovely song by Nellie McKay (no really, listen to it!)
-The backtoback apostrophes above are either unnerving, lame, or swell, I can't decide which.
-(As far as I'm concerned, Pluto's still a planet.)
-To do this week: eat another five pounds of clementines.
-Also, listen to Klímentajn over and over.
(I have a huge amount of respect for the czech cultural scene of the sixties, especially the theatre Semafor - witty, relevant, irreverent, and infused with equal parts a humour that preserves nothing and class that cannot be taken away by anything.)
-Plot.
-Attend an opera, ah, yes, an opera. (This is me smoking an imaginary cigarette and half closing my eyes and looking debonair.
-Watch Ciao Manhattan online at the cost of my homework.

Love,
Mad Max

The sun shines on Decarie

and mountains recede into the mist of memory
as smiling baristas bring me another cup of coffee
on Fairmount Street I stand under their shadow in the morning sun
thinking of dark roast and mountain goats
another warm sesame bagel
another community playground
another bike path
another hint of a lazy joint
yet as the world turns to water
(and brown turns to green)
in the land of Molispeare I look
singletrackmind towards the summer
singletrackmind towards the world

She's so fine, but she's not mine, what will I do, what will I say

You know what's good?
Sweaters from Tadjikistan and high heeled boots, Montréal snowstormbiking in the middle of the night, Dorian, being anglo, being young, bad American movies, good American movies, Québec ska, Russia being out of hockey and out of luck.



What's less good is that unless I'm disorganized as usual someone may have stolen my wallet. Whoever you are, I hope you enjoy my FQME card, Czech Youth tramcard, five dolla bill, and lucky loonie with Terry Fox on it.

What's good, though, is that Terry Fox is a badass.

Over and Out.

Roger that, Captain.

Mr. Mojo Risin

I'll be seeing this

I'll be seeing you.

In these strange, bewildering times.

(Cat Stevens is a tad inappropriate here).

Also,

Bezdomny has been committed to a psychiatric institution and is unavailable for comment.

Love,

Mad Max

Forgive me if I wander a little this evening, for I have been all day employ'd in a very abstract Poem and I am in deep love with you - two things which must excuse me.

Nameless, faceless

I'm reading The Master and Margarita right now. I really like it.
Sincerely,
Bezdomny

Bitter? Never

How it sometimes feels to try to maintain a sense of positivity and constructivity in an age when glib media-blurbs are the norm and cool is the new apathetic (or vice versa?) and the fractal counterculture simply consumes differently, not less:

"Have you ever seen God?"
-a mandala. A symmetrical angel.

Felt? yes. Fucking. The Sun.
Heard? Music. Voices.
Touched? an animal. your hand.
Tasted? Rare meat, corn, water,
& wine.

also by Jim Morrison

A man rakes leaves into
a heap in his pard, a plie,
& leans on his rake &
burns them utterly.
The fragrance fills the forest
children pause & heed the
smell, which will become
nostalgia in several years

(by Jim Morrison)

Current Obsession

This song:

Wet and crinkly and limp feet.
Five grapefruits for a dollar.
Beautiful streets.
Coffee in Nalgenes.
Long hair.
A girl named Vera
(She's not an obsession. She's just really awesome)

and all that.

Also, you know Johnny Weir (the flamboyant American iceskater, you know, that one)? And you know Lady Gaga (the crazy/amazing/ridiculous contemporary performace artist/pop star/too many forward slashes)?
Yeah: