a good fiber diet probably does a lot of good things for our bodies. it, for example, is supposed to keep our shit together. I eat coleslaw and salad from time to time and plenty of frozen vegetables so then why do i always need so much toilet paper? The toilet paper then clogs the toilet or if it finally proceeds past the flush and swirl; it reeks havoc elsewhere; it probably stalls or contaminates the sewage treatment plant situation and even then, even when it returns to the river or sea, it is eaten by a fish which is then caught, killed, packaged, and shipped off to a grocery store cooler for me to look at and decide whether or not to participate in the whole fishicide scenario which makes me wonder how much toilet paper i have. maybe i should start making soup?
i used to know this guy who fueled his Volkswagen car with vegetable oil. I don’t remember if it was a VW Jetta or a VW Golf, but for the sake of this story it doesn’t matter. We were driving to Ontario to visit a friend of his who lived in a barn. The friend sold me a copy of ‘Satan in Goray’ for a buck or two, but what I remember most is driving back to Montreal and seeing tobacco out the window. The leaves were wrinkly looking, like an elephant ear probably looks like. It got me thinking.
If I smoked tobacco, I’d find a patch of land and plant some and go back there with a lawn chair and talk to the stalks or leaves or however tobacco comes to be and when it was ripe and brown and ready to be dried and rolled, i’d bring it back to the city and sit on a porch or a patio and smoke it as the sun was going down and during every exhale and sigh, i’d feel glad about nothing in particular.
sweet flaky ash
tumbling out of existence
i’m not a farmer, not yet anyway, but i believe in polygamy with fruits and vegetables. I would think it provides crop rotation to the earth, gives the soil some rest – potatoes one season, zucchini the next. I would like to get together with farmers and discuss this and maybe even smuggle some fruits and produce into urban parks. We could display them on make shift scarecrows.
apples, oranges, potatoes for breasts.
cucumbers, zucchini and carrots for penises.
the inside of eggplants for vaginas.
we could make bodies beautiful and tasty again, like they were before all this synthetic porn, before all this plastic, perfect, and fake. We could go back to all that dirt and scratchy records.
i have a bad habit of feeling ready for a nuclear disaster after scoring an 8 pack of canned tuna. i guess i feel this way because each can is then turned into a different dish –
tuna with pasta,
tuna with rice,
tuna sandwich and so on
i can stay away from the grocery store for 8 days and well,
8 days is a long time.
But the other day i went to the grocery store and as always, the giant food warehouse was filled with all sorts of curiosities, from plastic cutlery to spices in packs to giant bags of bird seed stashed under the broccoli display, as if to say,
put your differences aside and
come together for a squall of a moment and
you can count on us as
a place to come and get it.
i got so excited when March arrived that I messed up the countdown to June. And just to rub it in, Montreal’s been wickedly windy and cold the last few days, so windy that an elderly woman had to hold onto a stop sign pole. One strong gust and she would have been lifted horizontal and spun around like a tether ball.
if i were a cat, i’d sit curled up on a window sill and watch wind work its wonders with snow, leaving curvy castle like shapes in its invisible wake and if i were in saudia arabia, i’d do the same, only with sand instead of snow.
I know it’s nature and not nurture or maybe it’s both? the way a squirrel stands on two hind legs and prays rosary bead to an acorn nut.
I’m addicted to pickle, pepper, and cheese on onion roll sandwiches. I have one during my morning break at work just about everyday. It’s only two bucks. A chef in my department commented that it was a healthy choice.
There were some books in the laundry break room with a sign that said “FREE.” I picked one up and thumbed through a few pages. One said “the world is a golden palace engulfed in flames.” Got me thinking that all the youth and spring of the earth was followed by a wicked storm represented by the flames, but then what? Then birds chirp anew and well, the flames go away and that could happen again, all those birds chirping, all those beginnings. In fact, it most likely will and real soon too, after a spring or summer storm, the palace again.
I walk to work. It’s a huge perk, one I often overlook or forget to remember, but then I do remember and i start to wonder again, about nothing in particular like were Muslims excellent boat builders? How else could they reach Indonesia? Do horses fly?
A stale muffin becomes a crunchy cookie. A cold potato tastes fine, especially with Tabasco sauce.
The Spanish Civil War is confusing. The socialists, anarchists, and communists were on the same side, yet the anarchists, according to Wikipedia and George Orwell were interested in revolution while the communists just wanted to win the war. I’ve decided midway through reading George Orwell’s ‘Homage to Catalonia’ to not understand and be content with Orwell’s portrayal of some of the gruesome realities of war.
Lead poisoning in paint has been linked to the spike in suicide rates on Native American reservations in Northwest Ontario.
One of my co-workers loves movies. Since I’ve been reading the Orwell book on the Spanish Civil War, he recommended, ‘For Whom The Bell Tolls.’
I was reading a book at lunch about Israeli floral and fauna and learned that there is more than one kind of duck.
You really gotta love life to stick around.
i liked the refrigerator i grew up around, the air conditioner too.
we played video games on matell intellivision.
we made basketball hoops out of buckets.
the streets were dark and more often than not – empty and scary.
it was a little bit like a horror movie walking home at night.
there were owls, crows, rabbits, squirrels and gas stations open 24 hours.
i liked my life growing up among all of this.
i’m glad i survived.
that way i can watch a spider crawling in a bathtub today.
at first i wonder if it’s struggling to reach the top,
but then it spins a web or it dreams a web and well,
i think maybe that spider knows more than i do…probably.