urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:tessalit tessalit tessalit 2009-09-18T03:56:11Z urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:tessalit:6275 2009-09-18T03:56:11Z 2009-09-18T03:56:11Z The air hangs scented with jasmine and myrrh.<br />Somewhere in the boughs crouches Alice.<br />Plumes rise from the smoking caterpillar.<br /><br />Chesire cat, with a grin and a purr,<br />Sets out to create mayhem and malice.<br />The air hangs scented with jasmine and myrrh.<br /><br />The Tweedle twins can never quite concur:<br />Each one is the other’s antithesis.<br />Plumes rise from the smoking caterpillar.<br /><br />The red Queen of Hearts and her timid sir<br />Believe wholly that ignorance is bliss.<br />The air hangs scented with jasmine and myrrh.<br /><br />The peonies with their flower choir<br />Are all nothing more than their prejudice.<br />Plumes rise from the smoking caterpillar.<br /><br />The clover leaf and the winding spire,<br />The thin water pipe and the steaming hiss.<br />The air hangs scented with jasmine and myrrh –<br />Plumes rise from the smoking caterpillar. urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:tessalit:5853 2008-09-18T05:50:24Z 2008-09-18T05:50:24Z I realized that I have a moral quandary with upselling cheese. I was driving to work yesterday morning and the windows were down and it was actually cool outside and I felt like I was in the airplane again, skimming the tops of strange tall trees in Zurich, trying to understand the sun-down sun-up in my terrified haze. I listened to two vegan British men sing about stars and sounds and stopped trying to think. Today he told me that he stood on his front lawn, watching his home come down, that the smell of the flames licking the skeleton reminded him of birthday cake, and his neighbors shook their heads when he started to laugh. The morning was the same, but different. We listened to a Swedish man sing lines penned by a drunk American, and a Brazilian man recant lyrics about a little lion. My hair was in my face, I couldn't see the lines on the road. That night, with Him, at the coffeehouse? That was the last? And the next thing I know, I'm at His church in a black dress and trying to figure out how the hell I got there. I threw away the shoes I wore to His funeral, I remember they tore a hole in the trash bag and came tumbling out in their synthetic glory and I just put them in the trash can and shut the lid and didn't look back.