Tuesday morning.

Spent the weekend trying to ease my mind with work. Painted profusely. Some of it not so bad.

My head is non stop revolving around too many things. Some of the mental skipping stones include iraq, fathers, brain surgery, money, always money, medical bills, To Kill a Mockingbird, a story by Cynthia Struloeff called The Sugar Shell that made me cry, a story by Aleksandar Hemon called The Life and Work of Alphonse Kauders that made me laugh, my father's health, my mother's sanity, my sister being so far away, a beautiful Canadian band called the Metrics, a duo called AK Momo, Celso Fonseca' s voice, turning older, why the bottom's of my feet are always numb, how many more test I will have, when will they remove the Port-A-Cath from my chest, Irene's November birthday, my friend Kent in NYC, I wonder if he is buying coffee at the Dunkin Donuts with the irascible Indian woman who is actually nice to him but mean to his friend, my friend Shari in Bloomington in my mind looking out at her backyard with a cup of coffee thinking, tomato juice, wondering if my poetry is crap, wondering where all my anger comes from, knowing where all my anger comes from, wondering if I can forgive him for it, steak tacos from Chipotle with extra sour cream and extra cheese, going to Arby's with my friend Mike C., a movie called Lackawanna Blues, Gabrielle in the backseat of my car singing at different times to both Rufus Wainwright's and Jeff Buckley's Hallelujah but not liking Leonard Cohen's at all, Lisa's birthday during which I failed to get a hold of her, what exactly is so normal about a 6 cm cyst on the posterior of my brain, money, our falling apart apartment, my secret crush on Javier Bardem, Jon standing if front of people and teaching, my friend Bina in Portland, there are snow puddles everywhere, Dave Gardner where are you?

and too much tv, teething, teenage masturbation, what it means to be a hindu, greek culture, kindergarten and everything else I think about when I look at the top of Atticus Patel's head.

Some days feel like falling, some days feel like rollerskating down the halls of job and hospital. Maybe I need to get another iron injection.
The Brooklyn Brothers, an advertising collective, designed this new TV PSA for the United Nations and their anti-mine campaign. It is a very intense, shocking image. If you so desire you can visit the Brooklyn Brothers or watch the video here.


a new poem... which was equally inspired by Kate Bush and the song Fast Car by Tracy Chapman

Running up that Hill

I remember you sitting in the back seat

Singing Kate Bush and looking out the window

Your sister was back at the house

Doing coke in your mom’s bathroom

I ran a red light and we tumbled into a diner

I tried not to stare and you fed me

Ice cream with your straw, our picture

Window memories ran out the door

And we made a new house, opening

Gates for new family members, hoping

Like teenage boys and girls trying

To be dangerous people that we were

Fashioning a new life out of straw, it could

Go up anytime and your mom could run

Back inside but in the evening when you

Touched the spinal bumps on my back,

I kissed you like the sun and pushed all

Our bags against the door and we made

Love on worn hardwood floors and made

Babies to fill the space and block out

The sun. I could still catch you singing

To Kate Bush and when the baby threw peas

On the floor I pounced on them, looking to

You for another car ride but your eyes

Had already left and we were just carrying

A passenger in our new sand castle home.