Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Christmas as the joyful collapse before it begins again

Holiday lights at LemonGrass Thai as Harleys do their charity parade, double wide hogs decked in lights and seasonal giving. Goddammit if I didn't miss the end-of-sumer fest featuring the cast of Sons of Anarchy.

A reiki practitioner invites me to his home, to welcome me to St. Pete, and gives me this cocoon. I can only think Jessica Tandy. I should have thought about the cat. Even though I put it on a high shelf, when it emerges, I am hung-over, exhausted from networking all night at the exotic dance club. passed out, a such when it flutters to the ground and the cat destroys its wings. I feel like a negligent murderer. Maybe foretold by this piece of gold glitter that got affixed to the chrysalis a couple weeks ago.

Artie Glove transfers the monarch, broken, to the sweet potato and basil pot on the balcony. I wonder if I should kill it, to be merciful. Two days late, it has climbed the herbal fronds and it is flexing its wings slowly, methodically, as if to rehabilitate. A kind of Christmas miracle.

Artie Glove plays the wolf man ingenue in flannels.

I make land and water turtle Christmas cards--a very glittery Flordacana flipflop kind of card. My answer to who I can only be this coming year, slo-mo-burlesque.

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.

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