i am an old woman, named after my mother

not literally of course.

i have a twix & a newcastle. i have a cigarette & decisions to make. i have spent time being my own stranger, & oh the candy. oh & yes, yes i did this instead of what i should have. can i deduct the temporal expense as necessary therapy? do you really want to know the alternative? thought not.

& soon i’ll have only the one job, & this is good. much more of this two of them & it would be all about my brother’s with them, did i tell you? / his wife is russian and he / keeps asking me to fill out forms / i have it in my diary / listen, which would bring to mind the time i went home with the waitress / the way i always do / how was i to know / she was with the russians, too & incidentally last night i watched the news from washington, the capitol / the russians escaped while we weren’t watching them, like russians will … (aside: two songs about lawyers mentioning russians. conspiracy? you tell me.)

i’ve put some poems in the lyriclist, & in doing so said, in essence, ‘same difference’, which was a nonsense thing my mommy used to say about this & that.

& i want to write up that search function for my lyrics. & can’t. have work before sleep & sleep before work & an unknown but now finite amount of completely crazed days stretched out before me & then it will be different. better? sure, sure. not that it’s bad now, you certainly won’t catch me saying if i had a rocket launcher, some son of a bitch would die. no, that is not a thing i’d be caught saying, and if i ever had they couldn’t tell, if we were they didn’t know / she might but if he did they can’t, you must, I won’t.

you know.

things change. sit down sit down / as we relive out lives in what we tell you. once long ago i listened to that in an entirely different state of being & thought how life is relived in the telling, reinvented &/or redefined more like it. & that the past is rewritten in every word, all of them, even these, & therefore there is no such thing as history, at least none that can be known. we don’t exist, we eat our time.

6 thoughts on “i am an old woman, named after my mother

  1. Arggh! We’ve failed you, Feckless Leader!

    I abase myself and beg your forgiveness as I trot off to leave sticky notes hither and yon in an attempt to jog my brain toward LyricsLand…

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