Gee mom, thanks for the message and I would love to call you back but it’s nearly six in the morning and I just did three lines of street coke with a core group of people and analysed the fuck outta a long loved Lorca poem and it's really all I ever wanted to do all night. Not that it got me anywhere. But I guess that’s the point. Plus, the walk home came across as a lot faster after coming down. It was so swoosh. Was it raining? Cause I got kinda wet. & also: thanks for giving me the ability to fall for ever moment in time. That’s just double-edged, so fucking killer.
Hearts & kisses,
Caro.
ps,
I do, contrary to popular belief, exist. But what‘s that about?
pps,
all this means is that I discovered that the only way to truly take yourself seriously is to not take yourself seriously. But I really should go to bed, because I'm no longer sure if this is the cocaine talking or if I am, in point of fact, having an actual heartattack. Anyway, it’s good to be “home.” And when will that word stop being in parenthesis? I'm blessed enough with that.
Posted by caroline at October 1, 2005 5:41 AMI'm not usually a large poetry person, but damn! Lorca wrote some amazing stuff.
Posted by: michael at October 2, 2005 12:32 PMHe's the guy that did the thing (in the place that one time) about Duende, right? With the lobster?
Posted by: ben at October 2, 2005 7:09 PMYou should google some Frederico Garcia Lorca. Magnif. I might even have a recording of one of his poems set to music....
Posted by: michael at October 2, 2005 7:17 PMHe's followed around by the store detective in Allen Ginsberg's "A Supermarket in California."
Posted by: ben at October 2, 2005 8:30 PMLorca was one of my main strongholds in high school. I loved him so dearly--still do-- that I read him all the time. I highly, highly recommend him.
Posted by: caroline at October 2, 2005 10:30 PM