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2001-05-21 || 10:19 a.m. || sunday at fort mcgee || yesterday: wearing a sun dress of the same exact design of those i wore when i was three (flower print spaghetti strap tube toppy at the top knee length and billowy); stumbling over to owen and michael's house; sitting on couches in the backyard, smoking; cutting michael's hair on the patio as kids showed up armed with slurpees and sunglasses and amps and guitar cases; discovering loquats in the trees- fashionable boys with leather jackets and severe haircuts racing up the ladder and standing on trash bins to collect them in their pockets and throw them at girls- the consistency of a pear, sweet and soury and the loveliest shade of yellow-pink-orange-green; pasta salad with shared forks; walking to the corner store for coffee and finding armies of kids in striped shirts and glasses coming from all sides down addison street; music and forgotten words and laughter and my ears are ringing i am way too close to this amp and my foot is asleep and i have to pee again but there are too many people standing around to hear; awkward pauses and averted glances; the fog filling in the quiet places and everyone shivering in their t-shirts. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |