I am selling two items on Ebay to raise money for books and the horse track and the aspirin salves.
This movie would be good for you. Also the shiny beads. I bought it and then didn’t watch it, but David Bowie plays Andy Warhol. I wrote about Andy Warhol here, soon after buying the film. If you buy the film you will write about Andy Warhol, like that. It is dark outside my windows now.
This is a baby toy. You could stare at the baby toy and enter a trance and write about the powerful circle of life, how we go from seed to vibrant sapling to sturdy oak to bent over/arthritic lightning struck sodden limb, as in dead. It plays music, too.
Thank you for looking.
My call for Jesus walking into bar literature has already worked. Here is Sarah M. Wells. I saw Sarah choke on Japanese horseradish once. She seems kind and poetical.
The “book of AWP“?
What I am reading…
I finished this last night after reading Harry Potter to my son. (Harry Potter is extremely badly written. This isn’t.)
I think Ander Monson sent me this; it just showed up in the mail one day. I think it is absurd like a mirror. It had sex by page 6, so the reader did appreciate. There was a falling-into-a-volcano scene. A woman namd Emily swims with organs (kidneys, lungs, hearts, etc.). The narrator robs gas stations and repairs typewriters. This is my second Iceland book this year. I think I want to visit Iceland. Is it expensive? Aren’t they bankrupt now, the entire country? I think so. I do think so.
Martin Amis blurbed this book. I’m just saying.
I have decided I enjoy drinking wine out of coffee mugs. It makes me feel three years younger than my actual age. I saw a fox cross the yard yesterday, a red fox. My dog has bloodshot eyes. Is my dog a stoner? Impossible. I’m just saying the juxtaposition of the red wine and the coffee mug (SANTA’S WORKSHOP) made me feel more alive. I am going to run far over bricks today.
I like this Amy King poem at delirious hem.
This line: “We are metered only by our own machines”