They said, “let them eat cake.” Well, they said SHE said that. And here we are again, but something FEELS different. I’ve always had some empathy for her—a young Bavarian, thrown into a world spinning out of control with greed and excess. Peasants. Royal lines. But now, its different. We have “brologarchs”…
still:: (they) wants to be the pop star they never was. spins and 15 years compile upon your blankets, your drawers. butterfly and resistance
the umbilical cord and the electrical turquoise
she lost the bedroom .
the butterfly sequins shudder on your memory/migration and the monarch’s history, orange flap flap mur mur, on the wind, virginity, once hailed, the fantasy
It was a rainy day. The hopes of something grand have come and gone. A single layer cake sat in front of him. A wish? Sure. I wish to be better. Better at what? Life? How? Where do I go next? As always, the answer lay within.
The cake looked beautiful in the display case, and she decided that G. would like it. She bought the cake and arranged the table for the small birthday party and then waited. G didn’t return, and she wondered what happened. She had delayed the final touches on dinner, but decided she would take a slice of cake, but it tasted like cardboard.
They said, “let them eat cake.” Well, they said SHE said that. And here we are again, but something FEELS different. I’ve always had some empathy for her—a young Bavarian, thrown into a world spinning out of control with greed and excess. Peasants. Royal lines. But now, its different. We have “brologarchs”…
A little stool wibbling on linoleum with naked toes, speckled in dirt, dancing in excitement for being able to help.
Layers of cake and cream waited on the counter, ice cream soggy. Not enough people came and they stood in little bubbles of awkward conversations.
still:: (they) wants to be the pop star they never was. spins and 15 years compile upon your blankets, your drawers. butterfly and resistance
the umbilical cord and the electrical turquoise
she lost the bedroom .
the butterfly sequins shudder on your memory/migration and the monarch’s history, orange flap flap mur mur, on the wind, virginity, once hailed, the fantasy
of ages and ages
It was a rainy day. The hopes of something grand have come and gone. A single layer cake sat in front of him. A wish? Sure. I wish to be better. Better at what? Life? How? Where do I go next? As always, the answer lay within.
The cake looked beautiful in the display case, and she decided that G. would like it. She bought the cake and arranged the table for the small birthday party and then waited. G didn’t return, and she wondered what happened. She had delayed the final touches on dinner, but decided she would take a slice of cake, but it tasted like cardboard.