My Dad Told Me That No One

In High School I Was The Dog, Always, And I Never Have Felt Comfortable Or Right In My Body, And Part Of My Whole Exhibitionist Thing Has Probably Been A Way Of Testing To See Whether Or Not I Really Was This Repulsive Creature That I Felt Like For So Long.

The Sky Is Purple, The Flare Of A Match Behind A Cupped Hand Is Gold; The Liquor Is Green, Bright Green, Made From A Thousand Herbs, Made From Altars. Those Who Know Enough To Drink Chartreuse At Mardi Gras Are Lucky, Because The Distilled Essence Of The Town Burns In Their Bellies. Chartreuse Glows In The Dark, And If You Drink Enough Of It, Your Eyes Will Turn Bright Green.

You Hold Onto What You Have; You Do Not Give It Up Easily, Even When You Know It Is Poisoning You.

It Was Like Discovering That Your Innermost Fires And Terrors, The Things You Believed No One Else Could Fathom, Were In Fact The Basis Of A Recognized Philosophy. Some Part Of You Felt Intimately Invaded, Threatened; Some Other Part Fell To Its Knees And Sobbed In Gratitude That It Was No Longer Alone.

Mostly I Enjoy The Restaurants (my Husband Is A Chef), Though I Wish We Had A Wider Diversity Of Ethnic Food.