stay the same

The woods seem pretty far away these days.

Purgatory

Now that all of the furniture has been sold off on Craigslist my prospects of being comfortable for the next week are looking pretty grim. I've got a small persian rug that I paid far too much for a few years ago (and that I may never part with), a pair of grade school cafeteria chairs that I found on the street (one of which, to my dismay, was missing a rubber foot and carved an 8 inch-long gash, resembling the side of the A-Team's van into the hardwood floor in the living room), and a small 3-tiered bookshelf which is equal parts writing desk, footstool and cereal bowl-holder (on respective shelves). Soon enough this will all be shoved into a moving van, driven six hours down the I-5 and crammed into a house on Mt. Washington. When I'm done I plan on making one big box out of dozens of little ones and lighting it ablaze in my new backyard. Sort of a Wicker Man, but for moving. And then I will sleep, the long, uninterrupted sleep of the overworked but satisfied. This past week has seen me driving to Oakland four more times than I have in all my years in San Francisco combined, and going to shows back to back (though to be fair it was all friend-oriented, and all very good). The Dirty Birds (Aka Them Crooked Vultures) were really something else. I'm waiting for the appropriate series of descriptive words to fall into place. The only thing that comes to mind is loud, fast and whatever latin-derived word meaning 'having balls' you can recall. It was the good stuff.
As an aside, if anyone in the greater Los Angeles area has a fetish for carrying boxes up stairs your services could be well put to use next week. Just saying.

Wishful Thinking, Maybe

This Machine

Dear author of this note,
The fact that you covered this device with a black cloak and then called the mysterious shape a 'machine' makes me want to touch it twice as hard as if it had just been a coffee pot sitting on a table.

Regards,
L