pantoum's Diaryland Diary

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WOMEN FLAMING LIKE TORCHES

160.

Images of women flaming like torches adorn and define the borders of my journey, stand like dykes between me and the chaos. It is the images of women, kind and cruel, that lead me home—Audre Lorde, from Zami

My friend Zulu just left a message saying she would pay good money to see me driving that truck. Funnygrrl.

I was blasting Lucinda on the way into Chapel Hill this AM because you just can't play Mozart in a big truck, ya know? Plus, anyone who knows me well knows that I'm really just a redneck at heart. If you make me froggy enough, then I'll always ump, damn the consequences.

I'm always thinking, Huh, if I attach a hook to that doohickey and a cable to this doohickey, I bet I could jump off that thing, or, Hm, wonder what would happen if I attach this here steering wheel to that there motor, stick a couple of wheels on the thing, strap myself in, and rev 'er up?" And finally, I have outraced a cop on a red clay road and slid my ass through a roadblock the cops put up to stop me and my bitchin' Camaro. So see? A certifiable South Carolina redneck.

Saw a bumper sticker on the way into work this morning that said Greed Pollutes.

As Buzzcut once wrote, the first line of Euclid's Elements is "A point is that which has no part."

I'm sure I must have a point here somewhere.

LISTENING TO: The Violent Femmes And I can't even remember if we were lovers, or if I just wanted to. But I held her in my arms. I held her in my arms. I held her in my arms, but it wasn't you . . .

9:57 a.m. - 2005-05-25

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