Saturday, June 2, 2007

A thank you to the Universe

So. In case anyone was wondering what the gravy train smells like, it smells like raw sewage. If I was still aboard the gravy train and doing a live broadcast, you would see the little girl from the Exorcist with a knife chained to Paris Hilton chained to George W. Bush chained to me. There would be no doors, just windows covered in shit behind a wall of flames. Oh, and fuck the Christmas shoes. What I'm saying is don't get on the gravy train unless you really really want to. Especially if it entails working for a shady wing of Finance that in my opinion uses money to brainwash their own people and crucifies those not willing to be brainwashed. I hope I'm being vague enough not to be sought out by this particular company and assasinated for not using shiny happy words to describe the shiny happy way they do business. If you're on to me, said shady wing of finance, bring it. I'll meet you in Grand Central by the clock at 2:45 pm on Monday. I'll be the one with the luggage and the ipod.

Ah hem. Excuse me.

The important thing is that I have returned to my company of origin and I am very happy there. My reasons for leaving, which will remain unmentioned, are calmed. More importantly, this experience has taught me lessons that I could not and would not have learned any other way. To the universe: thank you.

Need a new word for "Break up"

“Break-up” isn’t the word

Where my stomach ached to swell
there is a single concave
so quiet
waiting for a child that I do not know
No more impish smile and black braids

The male face at the breakfast table
Could be any face
Hidden behind any newspaper
Sports or Business or Weather
White or wheat toast

My hands are what I know
Clasped together tightly
Small soft ball on the linen
A mass of folded bone
one thing, two pieces