colored doors

1. „paint it black”

2. i had a dream once about a red door, and it stands out there with my creepiest nightmares, in that it woke me up, terrified. it was just that, a closed red door, with paint looking slightly old and dirtyish – but in my mind, in the dream, death was waiting for me on the other side.

3. „the yellow door”. is a coffeehouse/reading in mtl. i went two weeks ago. (this is how far back i am with my posts…oh maybe not really.) it’s just hard for me to be expressive about things i like, other than in capitals and exclamation marks. here’s me trying : I LIKED THIS READING!!! there were so many things. so many people who read, mostly poetry, but someone played an accordion. also: the accordion’s name was carmen. also: the hostess of the series is hungarian. one of the ppl who read is russian-serbian. i was all over them like plague and am still rolling my eyes at myself over that, because, seriously, carmen?? anyway. here’s me quoting a bit of a celebration of the weather – yes, there should be as many weather poems here as in vancouver:

„[…]rest and rot, says the mellow sun./take time to thoroughly fall apart,/before winter tightens everything.”

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