(no subject)

Feeling all better - apparently it was a 24 hour virus or food poisoning. My stomach is not happy with me for the not-eating-for-two-days thing, but other than that I'm fine.

for the record, noooo there hasn't been snippets and short char profiles for Cabin Fever's spinoff in a doc on my computer for a while now. *shifty* and it isn't called Contact. and I haven't cast Tahmoh Penikett or Noel Clarke or Rekha Sharma or Naoko Mori as leads. uh.

okay, now that the house is mostly clean (omg the kids TRASHED it while I was sick aaaaaah!) and I've planned dinners through Sat. and made a grocery list for Papa and stuff, now I just have to do that take-home test, finish the essay, get my bag ready, make dinner, clear the refrigerator, clean MY room, put away the groceries, and then I'm free to do ScriptFrenzy, which I am behind on due to the cramps from hell on Saturday and barely being capable of intelligent thought Monday. wait, scratch that. incapable of intelligent thought. coherent, if you were lucky.

mmm, I want to edit up this poem that's been hanging out in my documents for a while. *eyes it* the first stanza is BOTHERING me.

he wants to save me / but we disagree from what

things that are important about April: it is National Poetry Month! I have been very distracted from this for various reasons, but have a poem! I shall probably be posting them haphazardly throughout the month, though I shall cut them if they are very long.

Emptying Town by Nick Flynn

I want to erase your footprints
from my walls. Each pillow
is thick with your reasons. Omens

fill the sidewalk below my window: a woman
in a party hat, clinging
to a tin-foil balloon. Shadows

creep slowly across the tar, someone yells, "Stop!"
and I close my eyes. I can't watch

as this town slowly empties, leaving me
strung between bon-voyages, like so many clothes
on a line, the white handkerchief

stuck in my throat. You know the way Jesus

rips open his shirt
to show us his heart, all flaming and thorny,
the way he points to it. I'm afraid

the way I'll miss you will be this obvious.

I have a friend who everyone warns me
is dangerous, he hides
bloody images of Jesus
around my house, for me to find

when I come home; Jesus
behind the cupboard door, Jesus tucked

into the mirror. He wants to save me
but we disagree from what. My version of hell
is someone ripping open his shirt

and saying, Look what I did for you...