I sat in Bryant Park writing in my journal
watching well-dressed people pass by
and wanting desperately to be someone else today.
I walk from Bryant Park to the Chelsea apartment
listening to angry rock songs pressed into my ears
the sun is prickly hot against my skin
and sadness suffocates me today.
I walk past well dressed high-end windows on Fifth Ave
and no retail therapy will fill this lingering void
OM SHANTI SHANTI SHANTI...
All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2009 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Sunday, July 5, 2009
It’s strange now to think of you…
when the night vibrates with intangible
rhythms and I read Bolanos, Savage Detectives
to dumb down the cruelty that rattles in my bones
how we weep for each other—
only to hold the withered versions of clanging dreams
die in the sunlight
streaming through half open windows
as warm air hits a hot naked torso
and phantasms flower and burn
in raging bloodless captivity--
And today the bed is unmade and
words slip into a melancholy mood
behind closed doors and a lonely quiet apartment
there is a sound of a brown paper bag scraping against the asphalt
pushed by a warm wind that hovers for a moment
and the mewling of a restless cat pouncing on her partner
time contracts and expands like a living creature
and there are books stacked on the bedside
and mosquito-bitten flesh to douse in anti-itch spray
five hour spells of sleep and wakefulness
drinking cups of warm water that does not soothe a cold thirst
and Michael Jackson is dead--
a cut-open corpse being autopsied
and keys jangle in shallow pockets
as I walk in the dawn air looking for a deli and a bagel,
All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2009 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.
rhythms and I read Bolanos, Savage Detectives
to dumb down the cruelty that rattles in my bones
how we weep for each other—
only to hold the withered versions of clanging dreams
die in the sunlight
streaming through half open windows
as warm air hits a hot naked torso
and phantasms flower and burn
in raging bloodless captivity--
And today the bed is unmade and
words slip into a melancholy mood
behind closed doors and a lonely quiet apartment
there is a sound of a brown paper bag scraping against the asphalt
pushed by a warm wind that hovers for a moment
and the mewling of a restless cat pouncing on her partner
time contracts and expands like a living creature
and there are books stacked on the bedside
and mosquito-bitten flesh to douse in anti-itch spray
five hour spells of sleep and wakefulness
drinking cups of warm water that does not soothe a cold thirst
and Michael Jackson is dead--
a cut-open corpse being autopsied
and keys jangle in shallow pockets
as I walk in the dawn air looking for a deli and a bagel,
All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2009 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.
Friday, July 3, 2009
07.03.09
I fit into a thimble today.
Folded in upon itself, contracted and restrained.
Pulling inward in sharp gaping breaths.
Otis lies on the desk stretching himself long, his claws tug at my forearm.
A black cat with white paws who eats so fast it makes him puke
The sky is taking on the appearance of another storm.
I am listening to the song That's the Way Love Goes by Janet Jackson.
A list of toiletries to buy is sitting next to the computer.
I've resorted to reporting the lethargic machinations of the present moment.
PJ Harvey is wailing on her song, The Dancer
her screams make a wide open plain.
****
All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2009 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.
Folded in upon itself, contracted and restrained.
Pulling inward in sharp gaping breaths.
Otis lies on the desk stretching himself long, his claws tug at my forearm.
A black cat with white paws who eats so fast it makes him puke
The sky is taking on the appearance of another storm.
I am listening to the song That's the Way Love Goes by Janet Jackson.
A list of toiletries to buy is sitting next to the computer.
I've resorted to reporting the lethargic machinations of the present moment.
PJ Harvey is wailing on her song, The Dancer
her screams make a wide open plain.
****
All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2009 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.
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