I had to change my profile pic right now at 5am. Haha. This new one is more like me, my real personality. That last one I had on
here was one of the worst fucking pictures I've ever seen of myself, hahahaha, dayum.
It was depressing me. Ha ha, I think things are funny when no one else
does, oh well, like I laughed all the way through The Great Wall last night. I did like the hot air balloons, though. If you saw it, you know what I mean. I was going to see Lion, but it was sold out, bummer. My favorite movies as of late are: Manchester by the Sea and Moonlight. I loved them equally. Loved them! I get so excited by great film. It isn't normal how excited I get.
Anyway, I've been working like a dog, getting my second novel done, which is rad. I got rid of my glasses; they were annoying. Now I wear $10 readers when I write. Go figure.
Hey, here's a poem. A repost, but with some reworking, I think it'd make a great song. I like the "Blood in the Cut" song. I think this poem would do well with that kinda beat. My favorite tune as of late: "Cissy Strut" by The Meters. I love it...it's genius.
Wet Hooky
Go ahead. Come
down
softly.
Go ahead. Change your mind
and spit.
I have no say
in the way the sky
leaks.
Soak me heavy.
Send bullet-hail. Weigh
my brown hair down.
Darken all the light things –
everything alive, below,
exposed.
Whatever the season,
I'll still open
my mouth, letting my lower lip
hang loose, like an old horse.
I'll still let you touch
my tongue.
I'll still wait for you
to slide over me, over everything,
turning the world
clean or nasty.
I see your wet, wide work.
I see you water
this and that ground.
Some drops dance
for a penny-living.
Some drops
wear tap shoes -
sporadic, uncertain, polluted,
pausing for thunder,
no more than damp,
distant fingertips
pressing down dirty rooftops,
making gutter music.
Some hammer it home,
making surface skin sweat,
and the people hours become
all about the weather.
Go ahead. Come down
softly. Go ahead, change
your mind.
You are employed by the sky
I've found, and up there,
that’s where I’ll look for you --
in each, full moment
when the clouds spread.
You pour,
I sip.
We play hooky
in the lightning.
C.A. MacConnell
