tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31026292011-09-03T06:38:43.204-04:00how it all happenedanna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.comBlogger2991100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-37746851304617644372010-09-29T14:12:00.002-04:002010-09-29T14:16:48.668-04:00

So in my family - well, in my one family - if you were sitting still, you were being irresponsible somehow. Or at least that's how we've all internalized it. My mother is incredible. She's gotten older now and she's less crazy, but now she's stuck working all the effing time because, well, because she's an effing midwife and they pay her a lot of money so that she works five million hours. In

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-47546429634414072632010-04-28T14:24:00.001-04:002010-04-29T11:11:11.429-04:00

This blog is now located at http://annakisstemp.blogspot.com/. You will be automatically redirected in 30 seconds, or you may click here. For feed subscribers, please update your feed subscriptions to http://annakisstemp.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default.

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-27323723697669293162010-03-31T18:49:00.002-04:002010-03-31T22:33:32.308-04:00

I made something approximating a quilt. It took me 8 years.I originally began it on a whim when I was pregnant with Aleks. I was all, "I'm going to make my baby a quilt!" I decided it was to be a crazy quilt. I can't even sew in a straight line, nor do I have the patience to. I underestimated what a crazy quilt requires. I got an area of about 35 by 33 inches and gave up. Couldn't figure out

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-75407696399495559652010-03-06T03:12:00.002-05:002010-03-06T03:13:00.711-05:00

The only kind of mom who is recognized as valuable as "just" a mom in our society is one with a book deal.

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-11080860886723321542010-02-15T12:44:00.000-05:002010-02-15T14:54:14.837-05:00

Crunchy Mama Bragging Rights OR Doing the Green Things I Gotta DoThere is so much talk all over the web, especially on these homeschooling mama blogs that I frequent, about going green this and going green that and trying to be more conscious and more present and whatever else it is. I take an anarchistic approach to all this, with a little stylisitic anarchism thrown in because I'm not entirely

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-4382938040794906302010-02-14T14:42:00.002-05:002010-02-14T14:50:35.209-05:00

To counter all that complaining for no good reason, really - or one really good reason - here is the note I wrote to my husband for Valentine's Day.I want to summarize the past twelve Valentine's Days or somehow distill a meaning from all those years together, but to arrive at conclusions seems impossible and somewhat naive. There are no possible ways to adjust or exact some grand narrative that

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-42192724764994261202010-02-13T23:24:00.008-05:002010-02-15T02:40:17.759-05:00

I'm currently reading Bright-Sided: How the Relentless Promotion of Positive Thinking Has Undermined America by Barbara Ehrenreich. Like all books that speak to things I already feel, this book is infiltrating my thoughts. Despite my past dabbling in Treasure Mapping, I really have always hated the idea of the secret laws of attraction, and Bright-Sided is the perfect antidote to that. It is

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-83621393259605711022010-02-08T14:33:00.002-05:002010-02-14T14:34:38.330-05:00

The Art 365 thing ended up being impossible due to scheduling difficulties. Or, rather, photographing the evidence and displaying it is an unwieldy task for me these days. Maybe one day.

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-8666190395434056772010-01-07T00:38:00.002-05:002010-01-07T00:41:40.529-05:00

6/365. That's me in the middle in black, rehearsing for a stage play for the first time in more than a decade.

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-52273396388122044152010-01-04T23:34:00.001-05:002010-01-04T23:40:36.457-05:00

4/365.

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-65520193616841712062010-01-03T21:22:00.001-05:002010-01-03T21:22:57.359-05:00

3/365.

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-22719812288467630522010-01-02T21:17:00.000-05:002010-01-03T21:22:16.048-05:00

2/365.With children:

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-55730798688437353812010-01-01T21:14:00.000-05:002010-01-03T21:17:04.743-05:00

1/365.

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-64605917193785357162009-12-29T23:33:00.002-05:002009-12-30T01:08:35.253-05:00

since the end of the year is here, i decided to revisit my treasure map for the year, which i made in march then displayed dutifully on my computer's desktop for months before forgetting about it upon the death of the computer. later, i reinstated it, but my husband replaced it with a day of the dead image and i'm reluctant to argue with him about the matter by usurping his desktop authority.

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-21522821250972803192009-06-01T03:12:00.003-04:002009-06-15T12:29:05.648-04:00

I am busy and complainy about it. I want nothing more than to write lists and check them off again. When I think of my life, what I might say about what is going on right now, it is all the to-do-list, as ever, whenever I stop any more to think about it and write it out. Occasionally there is the drama between friends, which I cannot blog or really journal as it is not my own drama, but theirs.

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-74204244317373899432009-05-03T13:52:00.002-04:002009-05-03T15:37:45.708-04:00

i have been ill of late, in both body and spirit. my lungs are made of pork, so the joke has been going, their inhalations sporadically ending in coughing fits, like the swine flu that's supposedly everywhere and awful. here, we seem to be handling it well enough, if we aren't exactly well. the hacking has yet to manifest as pneumonia, so i think we'll be all right in the end. plus i've turned a

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-55148742621863247582009-03-30T13:32:00.000-04:002009-03-30T13:33:27.869-04:00

What I do when I'm bored.

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-37125322064320060582009-01-08T20:12:00.002-05:002009-01-08T20:50:13.346-05:00

I've been cheating on my blog. For more than a year now, I've been keeping another blog. It's mainly about my children and what they're doing as unschoolers, but still. I think I've lost whatever tiny readership I had remaining here by straying, but I have not forgotten you.Now it's the new year and I hope to make some new changes. Things got stale on the whole site when my web editor began

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-77451341972527311352009-01-08T01:16:00.004-05:002009-01-08T02:03:59.672-05:00

It's one in the morning and Aleks has just slammed the door at me. Not on me, not in my face. Just at me. He's angry because I told him to go to bed. I was impatient because I am tired. I was folding laundry and he wanted me to find a hanger for his Darth Vader costume so he could hang it up so it would "look cool." I told him I would in a minute, but that he needed to go get in bed with Papa who

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-58697986428780209972008-12-10T01:48:00.001-05:002008-12-10T01:56:06.818-05:00

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-57233699799035943232008-12-04T01:11:00.009-05:002008-12-04T01:22:46.035-05:00

i don't know what i am doing. i don't have any clue as to how to be a parent. i get these ideas now and then that feel right, or sound good, or something, but then i'm sitting here, lounging on the internet for hours on end, allowing the children to run amok by themselves, exploring and creating and otherwise trashing the house, but is that just laziness? should i be more involved? is that what

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-29743596274602743092008-07-21T11:14:00.002-04:002008-07-21T13:26:52.448-04:00

i have committed myself to the tasks of too many things, too many contrived methods of creativity and community, too many modes of transforming the self by false self-help dictates, that masturbatory domain of moneyed guilt, too many expectations weighing me down. in my quest to do what i want, to become who i am, i have lost sight of the simple, the pleasurable. all is the uphill battle, the

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-6220560351472637072008-06-04T11:28:00.002-04:002008-06-04T11:40:37.589-04:00

there has been no excuse for me, for why i don't write. it is fear, procrastination, paralysis. and maybe it isn't bursting out of me with the weight of my experience that makes it easy or easier. or maybe i let it flood out at all times, my mouth running constantly away with what my hand could be writing. maybe there are connections i could be drawing between things that don't seem obvious right

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-78204758295074123282008-05-24T11:59:00.002-04:002008-05-24T12:38:42.820-04:00

i hate that i have expectations for myself that are ridiculous, but they are unyielding. they stick no matter what. i want to be better. i want to do it all right and get it all right and be the best me that is possible at all times and do more things and explore more things and focus and feel focused. i don't want to do the things i was doing. i want to launch a new project. i want to feel the

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-78142339891683205972008-05-11T16:11:00.003-04:002008-05-13T15:19:36.521-04:00

jon was supposed to come home tonight, but his flight was canceled. it's certainly not the end of the world, but i am not particularly interested in continuing to endure the agony of taking care of the children by myself. my dad left today and for the three days he was here, i think there was more stress than before. maybe that's part of it. i don't know. the days seem unending. being alone is so

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-89593394990435815052008-05-05T17:04:00.003-04:002008-05-26T00:28:34.299-04:00

jon has been in mexico for five days. is decompressing from a stressful year in school, writing and researching his dissertation. it will still be here when he gets back, but it will be summer and there will be no classes to teach and no other busywork to occupy him. i, in the meantime, am home with the children, alone. i was extraordinarily busy before he left and all those things i was doing

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-89705546892435686962008-04-09T14:12:00.004-04:002008-04-14T14:14:07.193-04:00

treasure map 2008i created a treasure map the last two years during the aries new moon on the suggestion of a well-respected woman on a message board i frequent. i am not into the secret laws of attraction and i don't really believe in astrology, but nonetheless i've been doing this exercise within the time constraints and with a lot of focus and gusto. mostly i just like the opportunity to think

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-9308640812522794292008-04-07T12:16:00.002-04:002008-04-07T12:23:44.897-04:00

the frenzy of my existence goes on without end. one busy month leads to another and another. spring finally pokes her head through the snow and i am full to overflowing with the energy to do and do and do. it is treasure mapping time, a weird shout-out to the universe that i don't precisely believe in, but use as a way of seeing the future, of putting it down on paper. i find it really beneficial

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-23776976421714476222008-03-26T13:05:00.002-04:002008-03-27T02:17:30.170-04:00

I will be reading poetry and my six word memoir at Hot Geek Love night at the Cannery in Dayton, Ohio Friday, April 4th (see below), as well as at Visible Voice bookstore Saturday, April 19th at 8 pm in Cleveland, Ohio. This is to promote both my chapbooks of February poetry and my six word memoir which appears in Not Quite What I Was Planning: Six-Word Memoirs by Writers Famous & Obscure and The

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-41183455949029052322008-03-06T15:03:00.003-05:002008-03-06T15:50:50.127-05:00

i think and think on things i do, the proper way to live, work, breathe, and so on. i have no clue as to how to parent. i get in my head this ideal, based on a vision mainly, think and think on it, pound my head with thinking, then have a day of explosion where i can no longer understand my assumptions. what is the proper way of doing things? what is the right path? i can outline some basic ideas

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-40616913942452304122008-03-03T14:18:00.003-05:002008-03-03T14:42:13.719-05:00

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-39848291558102266092008-03-01T01:28:00.000-05:002008-03-04T01:29:26.364-05:00

failed no matter the pressure applied,nor the incentive entailed,the wings do not openthe sail does not spreadand i am plungedin free-fall,sunk to my neck,embedded deeplyin the cracked, barren earththat having lacked,perpetually after thirsts.

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-90747743166463314772008-02-23T01:28:00.000-05:002008-03-04T01:28:17.392-05:00

sweating bulletsanxiety comes in wavesthe twitched and upturned palmthe frenzied rush through roomsheartbeat all a'quiverdarting eyes and too lax limbsthe cornea cascading over everythingfloodingthe brain a disasterfor anything but uneasethere lurks no quietude or unsensed calmjust frozen flameslicking neural pathwaysclogged with thoughtand all becomes buta head turned over shoulders,searching

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-81010624763492514312008-02-22T01:27:00.000-05:002008-03-04T01:27:43.088-05:00

the violence of historyi measure my life by my traumas,by the lines wrought on my faceby sudden tragedyunfathomableand everlastingit is the story that tells meand in many waysforgets the tellingof in-between stuffthe filling of contentmentaccounting for happinessthe dramatic blissof everydayis not enough to stir meit is always the struggleand the intermittentnegotiations of imminent survival.

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-85992650684504778602008-02-21T01:26:00.000-05:002008-03-04T01:27:08.390-05:00

don't despair, organizemy notebooks lay splayed on the table,baring lists of words in no particular order,and dates numbered and forgotten.as much as i longto check things offand write out every endeavor,i have not set downso much as a syllablein days.i have been having to forgive myselfmy slow return to normalcyfrom a suspended statewherein it was necessary,for a time,to not do.now the blank

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-38187092187631055722008-02-20T01:26:00.000-05:002008-03-04T01:26:32.381-05:00

dammed mindi am so very far behindi have not yet foundthat sweet spotfrom which words flowlike so much water.i cannot seem to settledown into the parts of my brainthat clear and focus,block out all sounds,and form thoughts in brief,alliterate words,succinct and properly patterned.i cannot seem to write.and every day thati do not do,i wish to even less.

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-15774337283869355372008-02-19T01:25:00.000-05:002008-03-04T01:25:51.804-05:00

the agony of weatherthe snow meltsweeping riverswhose serpentine gutterflowis determined by gum wrappersand piles of exhaust-soaked slush.the sun sets,dropped degrees,the waste water of so many tearsfreezing over.the sky clouds,dropping new flakesand starts to workrebuilding the glacial shapesof each city sidewalk.it is a repetitive process,this winter.over and over againthe air warmsthen

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-8832154127578024572008-02-18T01:25:00.000-05:002008-03-04T01:25:13.762-05:00

inadequacy atonedi must flagellate myselfi must agonize the show,endure the endingcreate the wicked bits of me anewand exhibit thisthe wrought faces,the scrawled lips,crooked cat-slit eyes andaskew tombstone teeth.the punishment isfor naught -i fail and fail again,do not brace myself for failingand must scrapemy melted skin and charred bonesoff the floorin the morning.

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-83318523869181328242008-02-17T01:24:00.000-05:002008-03-04T01:24:40.636-05:00

being donethe daily endeavoroccupies allthe brain ticksand itchesfull with lists for doingprovokes the motionsof laundering and dustingscrubbing and scratchingand i tryhard as i mightto sense the poetryin all this doing,but the lens self-focusedcannot seemto extract the wordsfrom meeven in slow motionon treads tight as tendrilsor sinewy ribbons pulled by inchesfrom out my mouth and eyesmy fingers

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-29278199648938041202008-02-16T01:23:00.000-05:002008-03-04T01:24:10.776-05:00

fourth movementthe lines of motionfollow hands and armsin intricate geometric patternswhich form historythe symphonic interplayof the rubbingof bristle against grout,the rush of water,the stroke of sponge on porcelain,the shifting of feet softly upon tile,it is the orchestral accompanimentof this ballet -the hand up and down,side and forth,back and fro,thither and so on,each gentle movementthat

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-66387403131043101092008-02-15T01:23:00.000-05:002008-03-04T01:23:32.499-05:00

month of poetryeverything is coming out all hideous -gap-toothed smilesand shrieking laughtermy quivering throatin the face of expectationdraws vacant breaths.and listless limbsthe subtle flinchthe chin points downleading the face over the shouldersuch embarrassment.this exercisedoes not achievethe desired outcomethe fear, the self-obsession,the inner thoughpulled out,brought forth intoblinding

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-46474900882631914392008-02-14T01:20:00.000-05:002008-03-04T01:21:50.573-05:00

the pregnant pauseevery dreamgrows red withmeaty blood,full up inmiscarried globulesand heart-shaped placentathe belly balloonedsteadily by degreesup and upfingers feel into fleshthe firm, rounded edgewhich writes the shapes ofknees and backs and rounded crownthe babe blossomsin my brain,slowly unfurledfrom tadpoleto floppy limbsand too-flexible joints.so it is a strange revelation -this empty

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-79240460570036464772008-02-13T17:27:00.002-05:002008-02-13T17:41:45.460-05:00

a few weeks ago, i caught the baby of a doula client in the car on the way to the hospital. it was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. since then, i have read jennifer block's pushed, and have spent far too much time thinking about babies. i don't know what it is i want. part of me wants to catch babies, part of me wants to advocate for women, change the world, and another part of me

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-54590481095350829332008-02-13T01:19:00.000-05:002008-03-04T01:19:52.594-05:00

voidthe smallish momenthalved and prunedto nearly nothingin a space for beingso minusculeas to be obsolete,no room for a squeakthe head of a pinwedged in this crevice of timecannot fraction even a sliverso to you i exhaleall hopefrom out my crushed interioras it languishes and evaporatesinto the emptinessbetween the emptinesswhere the fullness of love cannot permeatewhere the starness does not

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-88080110377466925362008-02-12T01:18:00.000-05:002008-03-04T01:19:05.559-05:00

the heart wants and wantsand in wantingforgets,forges patterns,grooves,in the daily existence,and follows themagain and again.eventually,self-awareness occursand the questionbecomeswhy?why did this happen?what was all this wanting for?the head shakes,the jaw slackened,i do not know.and do not know.

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-19524183486766753222008-02-11T01:17:00.000-05:002008-03-04T01:18:25.036-05:00

ground zerothe couch explodedcross the living roomlies mangled,the cushions strewnby soft galloping bodiestumbled from the armsto the seat,tossed about betweenthe back and its pillowsthen the foam and cottonbrick for sittingunzipped slowlyby fat two-year-old fingersbursting out the entrailsfrom its cesarean woundthe belly bared.they bore a holein the fabric lining the springs,straight throughthe

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-11614643592380047232008-02-10T01:17:00.000-05:002008-03-04T01:17:30.551-05:00

hot geek lovehot geekin search ofsoul matemust love star warsdifferentiate betweenhoth and tattoinewithout questioncarry 20-sided dieunderstand mugglesinterested in anarcho-syndicalist philosophyfollower of chomskyadmirer of winona ladukevoteshas triedveganism,paganism,nihilism,fabric artsand web designwrites poetrybut not too muchlove historyand herstory tooreads graphic novelsmakes yummy

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-48923977970777577392008-02-09T01:16:00.000-05:002008-03-04T01:16:52.537-05:00

doing dishes as matter of reciprocitythe math of the momentloses mein calculationthe act itselfbut a figureto beaccounted forin theledger of this life.

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-54139699924958845032008-02-08T01:16:00.000-05:002008-03-04T01:16:20.768-05:00

yeastie beastiesi have no discipline.i consume what i desireasking no questionsand giving no answersi care not if my veins areprimed with lard,if my lungs blackenif my breasts catch on fireand tiny organisms eat mefrom the inside out.let the tissue and musclefall offin huge bloodied chunks,my meaty insidesrotted green and weepingflesh oozing puslet my brain fall to piecesmy wisdom andability to

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-53360379263927041932008-02-07T01:15:00.000-05:002008-03-04T01:15:50.810-05:00

nur owall night longwe roll in opposite directions,his hands gropeopen, shut, pullin half-sleephe whines, whimpersreststries againcries out.deep within my dreami hear the tugon my arm,tightly turn away into beddingprotectingmy pinkened nipplesfrom his torturous sigheventuallywe are bothpulled far enoughfrom sleepthat i bitterly roll over,gasp at touches,grit teeth,growl at himas he rubs his eyes,

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-82444250860825493772008-02-06T01:15:00.000-05:002008-03-04T01:15:16.439-05:00

my overtired limbslay limp at my sidethe list-making andfrantic rush fordominion over dirthave exhausted me.my cheeks hang sallowat the sides of my frownthe eyes dripdownwardthe hand slowsthe movement of wordsacross pages,coming finallyat the period,to a rest.

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-53870648273063451592008-02-05T01:14:00.000-05:002008-03-04T01:14:31.969-05:00

super fantastic huge-ass tuesday I stroke the pots,scrub the ladle,watch the shinebrighten,the hot water swirlwhite with suds it is a meditation-the ceaselesscircularscrub quietude lurks inthe rush of waterand the heatsteamed up the kitchen there is space enoughfor hidingwithin the fogof domesticitywhere I needn’t botherbeing anyoneto anyone

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-76652761742103386152008-02-04T01:13:00.000-05:002008-03-04T01:13:48.351-05:00

home is where the horror is there exists a movementin this housebetween the thingsin the aira fluctuationof goodvibe badvibe the heebeejeebeeswiggleinspire shivers down spinesand general fear-strickenmoments of paralysiswhereinnothing moves at all. I wish I could sayit were differentbut truthknots my stomachand churns

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-66051465010434310812008-02-03T01:13:00.000-05:002008-03-04T01:13:16.573-05:00

"flames, on the side of my face"i am pulled under,pushed into tight boxes,rooms crowded full of darkness, nothing,aching bones and singed tissuebridges collapsebeneath crashing fistsi move forward and on,healing noti become lost for wordscan only slam doors.there is no reason to ityour academic prowesswithers in the face ofseething, frothing vitriolthere is no debatethere is only the notionof

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-46687325928601915342008-02-02T01:11:00.001-05:002008-03-04T01:12:36.268-05:00

the birth the thing to dothe fury of rubber and asphalt humrocking stirringgoing -it is all finite within the abysswhile out the navel springs the universe,its stars suspended light in blue eyesits scope immense and holythe heart cannot beat its rhythm any betterthan first kissesand your tiny body bathed in moonlightI can only walk each step and breathe each sighand

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-20668428421522848212008-02-01T01:10:00.000-05:002008-03-04T01:11:20.382-05:00

thrushthere is no warbling birdsongfrom ‘neath the long grassesof these subtly sloped mountaintopsunless it is a microscopic humthat bacteria make while chewinginaudible to this earand the deep painful drinkingof the two year old nearing sleepwe rise and fall our breathsslowly and unknowingof what munches just below the surfacethese peaks are ablazethe rivers are burningand slowly spinning single

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-2535402377682041862008-01-31T11:51:00.001-05:002008-01-31T11:51:31.689-05:00

"Wisdom comes with distinguishing which battles must be fought in order to continue allegiance with reality."

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-54463255762667399672008-01-30T15:55:00.000-05:002008-02-01T15:33:41.904-05:00

no great thoughts in my head. only the noise of things to do and things not doing. the cold comes in the house through all the tiny cracks i have yet to seal and cuts through me, makes my hands bitter dry. yesterday i worked three different jobs and felt so angry to find the clean laundry piled in the kitchen. i receive no pay for any occupation. the poetry of my life is all doing and to be done.

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-48828739061017646452008-01-19T20:01:00.000-05:002008-02-01T12:58:29.703-05:00

again with the poetry. i have decided to write a poem-a-day in february again like i did last year. the difference this time is that i'm inviting everyone on earth who cares to to join me. to that end, i have started a new blog: http://monthofpoetry.blogspot.com/

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-54391142610627334972007-12-31T11:24:00.000-05:002008-02-01T13:18:55.424-05:00

what i have done this year:regained full use of my right handwritten 28 poems in 28 daysput out a chap book (now for sale at mac's backs books, cleveland heights, ohio)learned to knit bettertaught jon to knitfollowed a knitting patternread at a poetry readingstarted an unschooling blog and maintained it okayovercome drug addictiongained back 6 of the pounds i'd lostmaintained my stylestarted

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-60850669640919023542007-12-30T13:13:00.000-05:002007-12-30T13:50:04.154-05:00

there is time, here, at the end of this year, for reflection, for taking stock of what the year endowed, what i have done. time for sitting still and thinking slowly on what it is that is going on right now and how i need to look forward. i need desperately at the moment to consider the future and all its promises. i need to create what it should be in the eye of my mind and fill my heart with

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-87649241957724295352007-11-07T16:00:00.000-05:002007-11-07T17:18:35.500-05:00

thinking about identity. wondered last night why these questions come in waves like this and determined that the seasons make it so. the perception of summer, for instance, is a time of leisure, of infinite time to do all the things to be done. this is because in summer, the days are long. there is lots of time to do and lots of time for doing nothing. during the fall, the days get cooler and

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-84272689855655679052007-11-01T23:30:00.000-04:002007-11-02T11:32:23.823-04:00

Day 1: 1,940 words.

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-12824476841926082852007-10-31T14:10:00.001-04:002007-10-31T14:48:25.648-04:00

to be noveling. i am feeling obligated to begin and finish nanowrimo this year. the obligation stems from many things - one, to prove that i have a real novel in me thus making me a "real" writer (yet again), despite the recent publications of my "work" (one, two, and yet to come), and two, because i nearly sliced off the whole of my hand last year and didn't finish. my ideas for what i'm writing

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-18875168907151997612007-10-25T01:34:00.000-04:002007-10-25T01:50:10.814-04:00

i am busy. overwhelmed. stressed out. all my life is all the things to be done, all the things that i am doing, and there is hardly time for thought, hardly time for the close call, or for sickness or for drama. my body better, i press on, harder than i should, for surely the weather has changed, is changing, and i will find myself under the spell of some cough i've encountered unknowingly. so i

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-34033275649735449052007-09-24T11:31:00.001-04:002007-09-26T16:04:29.923-04:00

overcome with melancholy- it is inexplicable. it is sudden and draining. the feeling arises from books and from movies and from the fantasy failed. fantasy is the thing - an imagined world springs up in my head and the moment of return to reality, i find myself at a loss, with a hole in my heart carved from what i'd hoped and dreamed. the body better, i descend into my head. i try to create the

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-77009202101533706442007-09-13T00:56:00.001-04:002007-09-13T01:13:13.082-04:00

there is pain now in my tooth, in my hand, in my womb, in my legs, and in my spine. i ache. my meds have left me and in their place is the aching shin, inexplicable in its aggravation. the bones feel brittle, the muscles tense. i imagine the caffeine from breakfast coffee having leached out all the calcium. i do yoga and try to remember to take cal-mag. i shiver in the new cold, the fall air

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-70473034357897377602007-09-10T00:43:00.000-04:002007-09-12T00:56:36.268-04:00

six years ago, i didn't have any children. this may seem like an obvious fact, but it underlines the changes in my life in such a short period. the years have gone so quickly and though the fabric of my life has changed and even my brain and my beliefs have grown and focused, i feel in so many ways like the same person, lost as ever. i feel the same questions i always had rattling around in my

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-91598166204300944472007-09-06T00:17:00.000-04:002007-09-06T00:25:43.183-04:00

lists make me and unmake mebuild and unbuild memy arms and legsbrought together,taken apart,foldedunfoldedwrapped aboutand cast aside.my eyes gazed skywardand drooped with tears.swollen shutand snapped open.forth and backmy mind wandersand is lost.i look for you there -to find me.i seek me outunriddling the answers,the unsaid truth of the thing.but it is no bother to be,the empty palmsfill only

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-88308064198494262132007-08-29T14:52:00.000-04:002007-08-29T15:09:01.160-04:00

is there time to do the things i want to do? is there time before the world changes to see my children grow to men? will there be time for joy? time for peace? i exist under the weight of uncertainty and anxiety. i fear the pressing in of global change, of the world reduced from this mess to nearly nothing. i hear the reports - that the eleventh hour is upon us, yet see no decisive action really

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-30658931470688792832007-08-25T16:11:00.000-04:002007-09-06T00:42:02.874-04:00

last night jon and i went to see death at a funeral on our date. i was at cedar/lee on thursday for becoming jane, but missed the previews. last night, we saw the previews. i was bawling at the 11th hour preview, despite the constant leo dicaprio narrative. i just can't take it. even before the previews, jon was telling me all about the book i bought him, the world without us, and what i've

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-14967028644238958742007-08-01T16:40:00.001-04:002007-08-01T18:18:15.213-04:00

the final countdown is upon us. i am nearly through the summer. jon finishes his job in three days time, at which point the boys and i will flee to my mother's home for two weeks to allow him to write the first chapter of his dissertation. we are nearing the end of this long schooling process, even. and yet we are not near enough.the boys just now are sick, both sleeping with fevers in this awful

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-23903805532171092952007-07-13T01:14:00.001-04:002007-07-13T01:26:11.662-04:00

i feel so void of happiness. all feels bleak and pointless. my head pounds. my heart is emptied. i cannot continue with these long days. it is too much. the hard days are too hard. there is no respite. the children gnaw at my side. my brain unfolds the ideal and tosses it aside, clinging frantically to the terrible, rushing emotion, that urge to say horrible things, to spit and flail, gnashing

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-63702441119257182282007-06-29T14:14:00.000-04:002007-06-29T21:42:09.179-04:00

a personal history of terrible things (not for the feint of heart).last night, my husband came home later than i expected, shortly after i'd begun to worry. i spoke to my upstairs neighbor, trying to figure what to do. i called the police to ask about accidents. when he walked through the door as i was talking to the woman from upstairs, i excused my worry, apologized, and explained that we, or

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-10149849551530244052007-05-10T01:25:00.000-04:002007-05-10T01:52:20.963-04:00

it is nice to be appreciated, when it comes. it takes me off guard these days. i used to have such ego about my writing. i still understand that i write well, but feel so inadequate in terms of my rate of production that i hardly feel like a real or decent writer. i can make all the promises to myself that i want about writing more or writing everyday, but it still doesn't come. i have to take

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-17011772426786129972007-04-16T01:21:00.000-04:002007-04-16T01:31:54.647-04:00

it is the thing driving me in circles and filling up my brain, weighing on my shoulders. it is the flow out of pockets, and deep in the crevices of my bank account. i account for it with the pangs in my heart, but fears creep in and uncertainty rises to the surface. i am waiting for things to be better, for the world to look brighter, the days to be warmer. i am sick to death of snow. i am

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-47173496240680383162007-04-04T00:15:00.000-04:002007-04-05T02:19:48.366-04:00

in need of something new, i long for babies when i see babies, long for puppies when i hear talk of puppies, randomly pick up an application to run for the co-op board. the moment i think logically, however, i remember why i have no interest in puppies, why i have my fill of children, and why my time is all spent up and there's none left to be on a board. there is something churning in my belly

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-28173255570133819362007-04-02T15:11:00.000-04:002007-04-02T15:16:40.828-04:00

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-63690261436960324492007-03-14T23:11:00.000-04:002007-03-14T23:27:30.937-04:00

doing, doing, all day long. the self-challenge to write twenty-eight poems in february morphed into the self-challenge to sew and knit lots and lots in march. the week-long break at my mother's house resulted in the initiative to do everything on the to-do list (current and long-forgotten, present and long-term) in order to live come the spring. come spring and summer i pledge to write, to knit,

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-66934567977220394772007-02-28T23:26:00.000-05:002007-02-28T23:35:26.460-05:00

verse occursit happens that i am looking at my fingernails,turning my head around,humming to myself,rubbing my hands through my hair and mussing it,squinting and rubbing my head, urging the headache out,it happens that i am language-less,that i am attempting to do what i committed myself to, but without a map,without a guide,and my steps become slow and my lips bitten in search for a distraction,

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-29268958034958621822007-02-27T23:37:00.000-05:002007-03-01T00:30:37.496-05:00

absurditythe absurd visits mein decided non-hilarityit is unfunnyit sits beside me on the bus,hollow-cheekedand sunken-lidsswallows hard with dry mouththin frail hands clutch dirty balls of tissuesthe absurd talks in cackle voiceof webbed fingersand dog faced childrenwhispers cursesand bites off the skin around its nails all the whilethe absurd licks the cracked, white-powdered corners of its

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-50380423397391148812007-02-26T00:48:00.000-05:002007-02-27T01:00:18.556-05:00

yet to dolists uncoilat the touch of my fingertipsand the urge of my memory.the mind wanders about rooms,spreads the tongue about the mouth,licking the lips for the taste of words,the familiar spurred reminded requirementeyes flash open, memory installed,the spark plugged appropriately,the outlet let in proper positioningand all my dreamsreduced to the pathetic eagerness of domestic minutiae.

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-42442720876620737952007-02-25T20:50:00.000-05:002007-02-27T00:45:32.275-05:00

regarding reiki the magnet of my memory pulls handstoward and out my heart,thumps trembles, noises,and adolescent brain-addled endeavorsthis moment shudders me,frees blood for flowing,the energy courses,finds the path and plows it open,something occurs to negate the numbnesssomething here interrupts the blockageand i feel again,sense the texture of my corduroy clothingpalm the ridgesply the

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-73011423264422614402007-02-24T20:29:00.000-05:002007-02-25T20:30:54.101-05:00

painting the living roomthe shade of paint he announcesexcites me so,i feel unreasonableit is rare that something so mundaneas the tone of a pear would make me smileand continue to lighten my face each time i think of the matter again.

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-49430544818009512562007-02-23T20:31:00.000-05:002007-02-25T20:47:05.306-05:00

mended skinthe scars on me,your yellow shine,expanded and swollenacross the plain pale fleshthat regularly encases methe scars on my brain and heart,the imprints and impressionsleft behind by argumentsby breakups by months gone by without illumination,without even the flash of lighteningto expose a hint of hope amidst the darknessscars grow up the trunk of mefrom my toes to the tip of my crown,

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-80840588326748315572007-02-22T17:41:00.000-05:002007-02-23T00:26:13.411-05:00

blocki can’t dig into the thoughts,i can’t find the way into myselfto see the words formacross the back of my skullto feel my mood shiftand the shiver echo over the cold of my skini can’t get ini can’t remember the codeor find the hidden latchmy secret handshake has gone,escaped the memory of my handsthe thoughts do not formthe words do not fitmy poetry unravels before it’s bornends abruptlyand

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-87046421533755237092007-02-21T13:22:00.000-05:002007-02-22T18:00:34.387-05:00

writing twenty-eight poemsthe subtle churn of monotonythe focus of my symphony,the mundane transposed against infinity:the composition of this poetry.

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-59531081763304326692007-02-20T01:33:00.000-05:002007-02-21T01:49:59.356-05:00

treasure mappedwilted lenses drip puddlesof hidden agoniesthe truth is not hereit rests behind the skin of youmy teeth tightenedmy wounds remain raised to the airflesh peeled back, welcomingi feel the shudder crept spineward,unearthed fear and sorrow,surely thicker than the moonlight.the joys were not dependedthe ordered not accountedsubtle pieces pastedin obvious retarded kitchen wall glorythe

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-81674816141595054732007-02-19T00:44:00.000-05:002007-02-22T17:58:24.546-05:00

astonishment at the intersection of reality and intentionit seems, at times,not possiblethat i could be responsible for this existencethat i am the adult in this situationit seems futile to assumethat i would notshould not be the one screaming my head off,my emotional well being sprung a leakand steam pouring through in rageful glaringand guttural shoutingit seems unreasonable that i should check

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-92071659433374649122007-02-18T00:35:00.000-05:002007-02-19T00:36:13.279-05:00

sundaymy limbs do not liftmy senses failmy head sits in a cloud,eyelids sunkthe day is slow-going agony,no amount of caffeine propels methe stillness of my body belies the movement of this worldmy mind stirs in irritationfrustration with the dumbness of aching handsthat do not dobloated numb fingers all thumbsthick logs attempting needleworkthe shudder in me is a shifting tension,rising to meet

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-4904864560340479402007-02-17T22:49:00.000-05:002007-02-22T17:57:36.565-05:00

knitting sebastian’s scarffire twisted round bamboo stakestiny v’s unfurling,lengthening into warmth for baby boy’s throata mode to hold the heat inwith all the elements of embers: red, pink, orange, a sparkling hint of goldto stave off the icy blue hues of this frozen landscapeto keep out ten below gustswhich shake and shiver himhis pinkened cheeks and nosedried and dustyhis nostrils swelling

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-6176198373650925542007-02-16T12:49:00.000-05:002007-02-17T12:50:20.254-05:00

friday neuromuscular electrical stimulationelectro amputationmuscle re-educationspasm, flex, atrophywhat's the next catastrophe?

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-50696605865210981212007-02-15T17:47:00.000-05:002007-02-23T00:31:47.239-05:00

fatheryour canned salmon stunk up the whole of the kitchendarling’s veganness could not sustain ithe plugged his nose and clenched his teeth in furybut luckily settled to leave you with the childrenand scuttle up the middle of the icy street to the japanese restaurantto devour seaweed salad and miso soup,sucking down hot tea in ceramic cupsto stave off the frigidness of blizzarded valentine’s.

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-84546467020959871742007-02-14T13:47:00.000-05:002007-02-15T13:48:42.989-05:00

valentinei have always failed at putting precisely into words the whys and hows of loving youthere are no sounds sprung out my mouth,no thoughts abuzzing to tell me whatthe pages remain ever emptyi know it is thereit beats inside me with my pulsethe blood flowed to meet my cheeksthe scar of you imprinted in methe scent of you emblazoned in my memoryknowing you has been like knowing myselfyet with

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-34959024282343622952007-02-13T13:16:00.000-05:002007-02-15T13:18:03.472-05:00

blizzardsnow buries usfalls in heaps and in mounds,traps all underneaththe landscape a blank page,a clean canvas,so much become nothingthen scribbles and scratchesof passersby and vehicles,a cacophony amidst the silent whitenesschildren bundledeyeball to toenailslide down driveways and hillsidestheir laughter goes nowhere,becomes trapped,no hard surfaces off which to echoi dig in deeplyin sweater

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-40272438246887918662007-02-12T01:00:00.000-05:002007-02-13T01:37:50.289-05:00

psychic powers of the intranetmy computer seems to be keeping track of methe google bar in firefox knows what i’m about to type i suspect it also concludes whythe search bar in microsoft has been alerted to my most recent workings,citing “monthly news letters”as the example for what to search for in the elaborate cyberworld of ms office online templatesit read my brain, or my typeconcluded from

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-38058875441783396662007-02-11T01:35:00.000-05:002007-02-13T01:35:43.416-05:00

ode to kai ryssdalyou talk like a game-show host,you beckon me to take you seriously,to forget that the whole of your show is merely a vaguely liberal appraisal and applausal of capitalism, as though America,its politicians,its celebrities,its puppetsweren’t all jizzing all over themselves in celebration of money,of the products they parrot, in order to continue the moving of the machinethe march

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-17977581328673496952007-02-10T12:45:00.000-05:002007-02-10T02:41:16.336-05:00

hormonal imbalancemy moods sway with the breezevary slightly, strongly, suddenlyand are never silenti wear my thoughts out loudcurse and abuse,applaud and, at exceptional moments, gush.i laugh loudly,weep openly,purse my lips around clenched jawswith great obviousness and intentionthose who piss me off know it.i am never one for silence.i am small and havelikely made up for it my whole life –

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-39422746736112602402007-02-09T00:14:00.000-05:002007-02-10T00:15:01.528-05:00

thirsthot air burns fossil fuels, blows across the bed from out the vintage ironwork vent right at head level, sucks the wet from my open mouth,turns the corners of my nose at the edges,curling skin void of moisture into dust.spinning in the blankets sets off flares in the darknessthe rubbing of sheets against nightclothes creating static enough to spark starlight against my flesh.the humidifier

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3102629.post-46640519478998736452007-02-08T23:53:00.000-05:002007-02-08T01:35:27.138-05:00

gender varianceyou are the universe before the interpretations of science,static and stillyou are unchanging,as if there were no earthly orbitand the stars hung suspendedfrom the black cloak of the sky,invisible roots in the soili miscalculated your silenceassumed your posture was passivitythat there was no progressionno thought marching you forward in time and in spacei thought my heart broke

anna kisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14004735915443652720noreply@blogger.com0