February 2012
9 posts
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Watchfuckyeahfemmes:
Austra covers Robyn
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Harris and I sat in McCarren Park on a sunny afternoon. Maybe we’d bought ice cream. It was very hot, so hot that I was wearing only a dress and rubber sandals. I carried my house key and nothing else, just walked up Bedford to meet my friend on the dusty lawn.
We lay on the grass until it was almost dark and Harris mentioned a dance party in Queens. I couldn’t go because I didn’t have a...
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Here's another good one
Behind them the trees stood leafless, waiting for life but as yet coldly exposed in their differences, waiting formally arranged, like the moment of silence when one enters a party of people abruptly turned, holding their glasses at attention, a party of people all the wrong size.
See? Isn’t that great? Don’t you want to read this book so we can email back and forth about it? Last...
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-And his hair! Rose burst in, - that he wore like a hat. She stared at them, and then returned to the radio and left them there abandoned to each other’s vacancy like three children met in a summer bungalow colony where the plumbing in each ugly cottage is the same, the beds sagged in discouragement, used only for supporting sleep, where the heat of the sun serves only to excuse the...