Friday, September 9, 2011

flordacana summer 2011

Skipper's Smokehouse--dad on drums. Ruben Rey and the Undercover band.  petrified gator foot on a stick as a back scratcher. dad tells Ciro to keep that thing away from him. it is bad juju, with all the time he spends on the little john boat in lakes looking for bass with scarred palates. at the bottom of those lakes, the skeletons of so many poodles. some of them named Phyliss. dad falls asleep in his blue plumpy chair and wakes with a start, saying, "You should've jumpd on that worm."

a prevalence of 1970's sheets remain in the Chateau condos. i have some i stole before i left for college in 97. pale yellow with faded bluebirds and vines. i will use them till they fall apart.

Nick and Lolita with chicken wing.

on Twitter

, where this blog lives now. because it can be read and posted to through that app, one-handed, on my back, by a body of water, or in the cool olive green light above my mattress. This is articulation my spine had not dreamed of before.

My blog lived on Tumblr for a minute

because it is so much easier to access from my phone. fallinginrealtime.tumblr This is the feed. No, I don't like it. I can't add another virtual box. I'll make due with Twitter.

Real Time Archive