Monday, October 8, 2012

hardly strictly, to and from

 the hill neighbors we met trading us whiskey for muddled pears, Derek cutting excellent cheese squares and handing them up to me without pause, tipping him and i over while trying to turn the scooter on the slope, us covered in eucalyptus leaf litter. "your perfume smells like cowgirl".  all the dogs in the women's bathroom. patti smith, she was way way over there.

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