the gravitational mass of fish

my window is rattling in response to some vibration outside but when i lock it, it shifts to a subversively sonorous drone.

actually, i don't know where the vibration comes from; it could be anything.

it could be my cat stalking the Sailor Scouts, e.g.

here is a picture of right now.
or just then, as it probably is to you, by now.

i proclaim tomorrow (otherwise known as Thursday) to be Distraction-Free Day.
all random blogging, anime-watching, Dune-reading, re-organizing-of-the-kitchen-because-i-can't-take-it-anymore must be avoided at all costs.

i have to grovel to institutions & find bits of paper to prove the doctors wrong. i have to sticker my car. i have to shift the flower arrangements. i have to convince the cops to give me copies. all this & maybe a little bit of good v. evil as a nightcap. if i'm a good girl.

aha, it's almost a full moon, that's why everyone's all weird.

i was going to write about testing superstring theory (it involves black holes in the Alps) & perpendicular galaxies & the North Star's newfound friend & how long it takes to traverse a black hole (& my suspicion that they're missing out on some sort of infinity on that one) & the mouse that set a house on fire & the lions in Tanzania (but not about the one-eyed cat) but i wrote this instead.

this i just found i wrote almost exactly a year ago:

I notice the light first:

not at all green, rather gleaming & graywhite
as the sky's been,
slats & blurs of reflection off hardwood
shaded by swoops of transient curtain
which never draws but we see:

tree limbs like sticks in a winter bouquet
(there was mountain sage in the one I gave you)
the tenor dog has ceased its strangely-patterned communion
but the bass & bells of wet traffic
swell & ebb like a song:

the dog must be accents or
a reminder of rhythm.
in here the soundtrack is deliberately mythical,
the lyre of Orpheus inside windows,
mediocre coffee in a green marble mug:

deep green of seat cushions on white frames
& the licorice-green of wine bottles,
green iron & glass, spikes of organic green,
spiderplant, a young palm, basil vines:

in all that gray light, flecks of color
from a persona who gives me
green things with character,
who met in greens & greens
& Paris paintings in gray-green,

reflective green streets signs so
I know where I live
but where else is there green today?

1/13/2005

ah, it seems not much has changed since then.
but it has. & the coffee's better.

here is a message of joy from mysfit:

i have no idea how old this is but it still works for me.
(i have a bellybutton, um, i am a sunflower...damn! how did that go???)

now i'm going to rearrange my bedroom & get my eyes into some scifi while i still can.

ps: there's thunder & lightning here in New York.
lightning? in January? quoi?

& i started a website for portraits, which is the thing about photography that i most love & am least practiced at.
so yeah.