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A Day in the LifeCourtney knew that she had seen that mustache earlier. But, time has no meaning on days like these. She's a Tuesday/Thursday time-traveler. Somehow on Tuesday/Thursday morning, bright and early, she transports to UC Irvine and that's where it all begins. The first of it is word and image where she is hit with photographs of the dead and dying- those that suffer and those that inflict suffering. A barrage of blood, rubble, and absolute chaos. Good morning, Vietnam! A man holds the door for her and the elevator opens- those were the same action. On the fifthA Day in the Life
by ~Tangerinetigre
CatachresisSweet repose in absence An undue satisfaction Lost on this side of brightnessCatachresis
Patter of soles on wet asphalt
The wide boulevard still as hope In an absinthe dawn
Waiting in the silence We ushered in daybreak with a sigh You and I- emissaries of light
by ~Tangerinetigre
UmbraThe vague outline of an unknown man, a shadow, on the curb- a limp cigarette dangling from his lips. He stops in mid-step and raises his hands slowly to his mouth. A flash. For a second his face is illuminated with pale orange light. You saw his features in that moment, but cannot distinctly recall them. He raises his head to the sky and exhales- one long breath. A puff of white smoke rises above his head. It moves lithe and nimble, with all the grace of an exotic dancer. You watch it curl and fold over on itself; mesmerizing you, seducing you. Inhaling, exhaling- like clock-work. Breathing is the rhythm of the night. The man drops the spentUmbra
by ~Tangerinetigre
Labyrinth of Solitudelabyrinth of solitude. a play in one act. the library. an isolated desk with partitions. two men with books and paper, one is the internal, one is the external. implied internalized dialogue. self: what are you writing? man: an essay. do i feel like writing this? self: does it matter?Labyrinth of Solitude
man: no, nothing matters...pause. not anymore.
self: ah, the pauses. they are what is significant, no?
man: yes. a pause. a moment of silence. reflect. here i am in the library taking up time. taking up space. taking up oxygen. respire. respiration. breathe. well then... what am i to do here? i cannot go back to the r
by ~Tangerinetigre
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: Irvine, CA
- Interests: Novels, essays, poems, non-fiction, journals, magazines, graphic novels...do we see a pattern?
- Personal Quote: "There is nothing funnier than unhappiness."- Samuel Beckett
- Email: courtnes@uci.edu
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