Minuet

It feels good to be working on music stuff again. A month to get it done, i need to get these lyrics finished. 3 songs written and two to go, all of them flowers. Oh, also I’ll be done with grad school by then. I have the third section of my dissertation due Friday. Everything is crazy. Baby showers are affairs of primal femininity. Sacred in a way that i didn’t understand as a kid. I’m daunted by the fact that i need to immediately get a well paying job. Like… Immediately after i graduate. Daunted and haunted by the spectre of my own body. Pretty fucking wild to try and get a house in a world where i don’t even really know what kind of income I’m gonna be able to produce. That’s some type of pressure. Feels like a significant gamble. My knowledge a gambit i can’t judge the value of. Flowers and floundering figments and love.

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Swan

First day of fall. This time last year i was a ghost apprentice still, but only for another week or so. It was my first semester in grad school. Now it’s my last and I’m getting ready to sacrifice another October to this stupid job. I’m so used to it, it’s been a year, but sometimes it still hits me, how fucking weird it is. Here i am, telling ghost stories to 18 strangers. Performing and public speaking and lecturing somehow all at once. Here i fucking am. I wonder what they say about me when I’m not there. Rule Following Pretentious Lady asked me today if i was done with school, because she had heard i was closer, and that i was doing a lot of stuff. I was like… No, it’s my last semester, I’m writing my dissertation and i have to take two fucking comprehensive exams. So they talk about me, that’s true. I have the first little section of my dissertation due in less than a week, that’s true. I had an excellent weekend and i didn’t want it to end, that’s true. I should sleep now. Peace.

Sutra

You could go through the graveyard
If you
Jumped the fence or pushed
The fence in
But instead you ride beside it
Steady speed wishing peace
To every stone you see
No way a ghost
Would hang around here
Just rocks across
From the city bus last stop
Why the fuck would a ghost
Hang around here
You get covered in the city real
Lock your bike to a water pipe
And go in to buy liquor
That ends up putting you
In an awkward position
To say the bone bare least
But try to sharply compensate
And in ten minutes you miss
Three days of lonesome rain