relentless caper for all those who step / the legend of their youth into the noon

hay. it's really nice weather here in tucson. we finally turned the a/c off a week or so ago & i wore two light sweaters out & about before the desert punched through another eternal summer, at least til november, 90 degrees the last two days; the a/c's back on, one more month of a 200+ electricity bill.

ive been putting much of my time into planning my class, the other into love & home, new friends & bar work, & writing (a little: fiction). and reading. i finished all the twilight series books & have felt a pretty noticeable hole in my life w/o those characters, of a night mostly, cause i usually read an hour or so before bedtime, sometime around 5ish when most people waken.

i ordered my halloween costume a couple days ago. Bandero hat, gauntlets, eye mask, ruffled shirt, red waist sash, no sword 'cause i'll be working the bar & that would be dangerous. what am i gonna be? what ive wanted to be for years now! i'll post pics post-event :)

im getting very excited about heading to LA to meet my new little niece, Lyla G, who should make her debut in three weeks or so. all my best wishes to my rouch & budzy these next few weeks.

[fall is for whitman, anyways]


The spotted hawk swoops by and accuses me....he complains of
my gab and my loitering.

I too am not a bit tamed...I too am untranslatable,
I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.

The last scud of day holds back for me,
It flings my likeness after the rest and true as any on the shadowed
It coaxes me to the vapor and the dusk.

I depart as air...I shake my white locks at the runaway sun,
I effuse my flesh in eddies and drift it in lacy jags.

I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love,
If you want me again look for me under your bootsoles.

You will hardly know who I am or what I mean,
But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
And filter and fibre your blood.

Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
Missing me one place search another,
I stop some where waiting for you.

[w whitman; so full, grotesque, imaginative, childlike]