The Battlefield Where the Girls Say I Love You



That's just the thing: we will never tell you we love you. In fact, we're here only to hold hands across state lines and yell at the world. We're here to try to touch you across this chasm of flown things. Not even that. At most, I will teach you how to make a gin smoothie when there's nothing left in the house. Hannah can teach you several languages and what to do when your car breaks up with you. Thanks for coming out.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

seems to me i'm boston, hannah's cleveland

well, well, well. if we would all flip through our urban dictionaries (which is what i'm doing while my students are writing poems using anti-similes, which we'll get to), we find:

indo: marijuana, specifically modern cross-breeds of indonesian (hence, "indo") indica strains with western sativa, resulting in pungent, broadleafed...trees.

friendship is never about winning or losing........unless it's unavoidable.

nevermind. we won't get to anti-similes. i realize now it'll just make my teaching look crazy...i'm pretty sure i just went on a rampage about poetic devices. i think i called them "contraptions," quoted that alan dugan line about metaphors: "shall i say that the container can not / contain the thing contained anymore?"

that being said, hannah is like the setting sun, the surprise of gulls falling into line at a water's edge.

sucker.

7 comments:

hannah said...

you looked this up. you looked it up, blogged abt it, then pronounced indica with a long second 'i'. winwinwinwinwinwiiiiin.

that being said. you are the gust of starlings scattering like leaves from the tree. your face has something to do with the way morning light will pool in a wooden chair standing empty by the window. your voice recalls a brief moment of Chopin, wind-flung and weightless, which leaves the listener, a man walking home alone over (yes, why not) fields, glancing for where the music could have possibly occurred.

Mamie said...

NOT ALLOWED TO BE BETTER POET. god, you're the worst kind of mean...what, you want me to start using poet words??? rivulet, sinew, mercurial, eaves, peat moss??? not happening, sister.

bettah keep your ass on tha prose side.

hannah said...

you're so transparent right now. what you just said was NICE. no other word for it.

p.s. we're like those people who use walkie talkie cell phones to communicate, thereby subjecting bystanders in the produce section to conversations about car repair and insomnia.

daisy said...

Can I just say I am reading this on muni. Using my iPhone? You're the only two who won't think that is super obnoxious. I am also listening to tegan and Sara on the same device at the same time. They sort of remind me of you. Oh, and Judith just called on that same device but I hit ignore. I pick y'all over her.

Anonymous said...

daisy--come back to NC! No one is moving to SF. We miss You!

daisy said...

I miss NC.

JaySlacks said...

What the fuck is an anti-simile?