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Category Archives: Plum Poetic

obama in my dreams

The last couple of nights my dreams have been incredibly vivid, and frankly I’m annoyed. Usually I sleep like a baby. Not my baby. But someone’s baby. So the night before last, a group of us was being hunted. We found ourselves in an apartment waiting for the killers. I think I might have slipped [...]

cat love

My cat needs more love. (Don’t we all?) She’s licking herself raw. Declaring psychological trauma. The sly owners observed for 13.5 months before concluding: “The Fat Cat Feels Usurped By The Really Cute Baby With The High Pitched Squeal.” Then they sat around and ate toast. “Where’s Elsie—I mean Frannie?” she wondered. “Good question. Where [...]

kneeling girl, egon schiele

Just a kneeling girl. That’s all.

a screwball family drama

And all of these things might have significance if the writer could just give them some. The assembling of the day into metaphor. First clarity. Clarity is key. Blah, blah. Blah, blah. Blam. Blam. Thank you ma’am. Bam. Boo. “Stop.” “I’m playing.” “You’re thinking too hard.” “We were talking about clarity, right?” “Right. It starts [...]

day ten: elsie thinks

little puzzles

What does Elsie dream about? Is she smiling or is it gas? Was the train rolling through the desert a sign…a pointer toward something…? When Simon eats raw, should I have to too? What is it about cooked food? Why is it so hard to live in the moment? High art or low art…the blog? [...]

ant admiral AND lunch captain

“You need to take care of these ants.” “What? I’m the Ant Admiral AND the Lunch Captain?” “Today. Yes. Next week, I have the privilege of assuming ALL roles.” “Can I still be maintenance-handy-man-fix-all-the-crappy-broken-things-around-the-apartment-clean-up boy?” “I would never take that away from you, baby.”

the fruits of eavesdropping…

A young guy looks up and says sort of to me, sort of to anyone: “Do you know where Dresden is?” “Ah…no,” I reply. He turns to the old man across from where he’s sitting. “Do you know where Dresden is? Dresden?” “What?” he yells. The old man can’t make out what’s being asked. “Do [...]

dear elsie, please love what i love…

Dear Elsie, Mama loves breakfast. I hope you will love it too, and we will have lots of intimate brunches together. Daddy will make us amaranth pancakes, and I will read us breakfast poetry. I will have to read pretty loud, ’cause Daddy and I like to blare Lucinda Williams or Kathleen Edwards over break. [...]

the recluse has a fondness for art

She thinks she might be becoming a bit of a recluse and wonders if it’s a problem. Or not a problem. Strange behavior for an actor though. Maybe. For a few moments the sky is dark. She needs to act fast if she’s going to walk. But no sooner does she think the thought, the [...]