Tag Archives: Travel

FLAGGING…

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she irons and places the finished ones on top of each other creating a little pile and Eric explains what some of the colors represent and purple is for piercing and grey is for rope and yellow is for golden showers and black means s&m and if it’s worn on the left side you identify as dominant and right submissive and i think back to Baltimore to a summer in the late afternoon at the Eagle with K who i had met indirectly through someone i had dated in town and ended up spending more time with her and her friends than with him which was telling. when K and i first met she came to get me at the train station and held both her heart and the door to her white pick up truck open for me and two for one vodka sodas in the danky bar which was dark aside from the stream of glaring sunlight escaping out the corner of a blackened shade and it was empty maybe one old Queen in the background and on the wall closest to the fire exit hangs a long board with the Handkerchief Code listed out and K tells me about her operation and how she had to insert surgical dildos into her vagina every day a few times a day for a year and they gradually got bigger and i keep visualizing metal pickles and picture a tiny model that could fit in between my fingers and it would make a great Monopoly piece hanging out next to Toto and the top hat. we smoked a lot of cigarettes together and ate a really good Thai meal that weekend.

ABSOLUTE…

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sometimes life is abstract and there is no better way to describe a thing than to act it out like close my eyes while i stand and gingerly stretch my left foot in front to feel whether there will be ground or a drop off the cliff and my arms are splayed outward in a religious fashion and i step very slowly and blindly scared of an edge and it’s risky but funner than descending backward into safe known territories and the background music plays on.

NADJA, LONDON…

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MARBLE AND ROSES…

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last night at a hotel made of marble and roses we sat in a circle seated in soft armchairs and over soy strawberry smoothies talked of sixty foot sharks and distressed fabrics and fears and i’d wished i owned a fur black and sleek like hers and the streets of Marylebone are cold and at the party padded red leather doors swing and pink champagne and i stare at photographs projected on the wall which look retro but aren’t and a thin man in a suit prances to a song that reminds me of the 90s and i have two heartbeats as i imagine myself in a few days back in nyc panties black panties slowly sliding down my hips down my thighs lace catching skin passed my kneecaps down my calves slowly slower still yet add drama to my thoughts which makes both hearts beat faster slide down to my ankles unhook my left foot as they gather down on my right keep them there until i use them to gag his mouth and i wish i could film the fantasy as i am being filmed thinking of the fantasy and wonder how i would edit that together.

THE PURIST CHESSBOARD….

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it doesn’t have to be that complicated. let’s go back to simpler times.

JOHNNIE BROUGHT HARDWARE TO TORTURE HIS COCK AND BALLS…

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SELF PORTRAIT AT THE FASHION SHOW, LAST NIGHT…

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a harlequin is a jester and once again Manet and Renoir break my heart as i stand in front of the two paintings transfixed and dizzy a veiled woman in black surrounded by pastel on the right and on the left she looks over her shoulder and it appears they are aware of one other and i am beyond moved and want to make beautiful things and think about Picasso’s friend Casagemas who shot himself in a Parisian cafe over a different sort of heartbreak and the painting of a portrait in a coffin and it was 1901 and the blue period begins and two floors below Cain Slaying Abel and the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree and i think i understand that now and later across the bridge i stare at light through the dark and it jumps and sparkles and streams in colors of red blue and green and inspiration makes me fear nothing and when there’s nothing to fear there is everything to try and my skin feels too tight as i begin to burst.

NADJA’S SILK STOCKINGS IN TAXI…

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she asks if we should feed him because he’s been such a good boy and i nod and she makes him bark for it on his knees and dishes a plate of curry and has him lick it up like a fucking dog.

BREAKFAST AT THE ALBION…

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there is a feeling of magic in the London air this morning which smells crisp and looks sunny and as i pound the now familiar pavement of brick towards the hotel i think about walking through rain without a drop hitting me.

LACE CAKE…

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i really wish i could fold the soft voice of Japanese in a napkin and slip it in my pocket oh so fragile. i would pull it out later and when i put it up to my ear it would whisper back like the ocean in a seashell and i would lightly scratch the inside of my arm or thigh and my lids would grow heavy and so soothing into a deep sleep and dream.