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About

This is what it could look like when one completely deconstructs a life as one knows it, and how to build from the ground up. Alternatively, this is a fresh look at an old story. The fine art of falling apart.

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I'm Gish. I guess this is what one can call the remnants of a pre-mid-life crisis. I listen to too much music and read too many books, and it all means nothing. Abrasive, I smoke too much, drink too much coffee and hardly sleep. Alive. Be sure to check out the new links to blogs, photos, music and other sorts of good stuff at the very bottom of the page.

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my poetry room

Stamped: 11:37 PM


my poetry room
Originally uploaded by Abstract Magdalene.

The lamp is from Goodwill, even the corkboard was someone else's before it was mine. New chalkboard, though. Feels like I'll always have one, somewhere. Write, erase, write again. Editing, is the polite way to correct mistakes.

I watch Buckley play sometimes. I don't know why he lies upside down to chew on something. He spreads his legs out behind him, sometimes too. Marble is like a rock. Not as fluid-like, as Buckley. Too extreme opposites. Like me.

I just wanted to send out a something. Like a knock on some wood. Little taps to know I'm here. Before I slip underwater for the night. I don't know why I write down these people's phone numbers when I never call anyone on this spiffy new cordless telephone.

This is me, when it's quiet. Nighty.

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Craig calls me a Gish-sicle »
I don't want you to be scared. »
Christmas Eve 2006 »
asleep baby »
lover, you should have come over »
the lure would prove too much »
good thing I like garbage »
insulation »
something about me just pisses you off »
mind the construction »

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