So it is cozy. You might say small. Or even absurdly tiny.
And it is busy. Teeming, if you prefer. Perhaps you stand a greater chance of being struck by lightning while clutching a winning lottery ticket and barebacking flying swine than eyeing an open elliptical machine during peak hours.
A couple weeks ago, legendary shoegaze band My Bloody Valentine released their first album in twenty-two years. The press surrounding the release of m b v was as extensive as any I’ve seen for a musical release in quite a long time. Why? What’s the big deal about this band coming back after so long?
I am on my balcony. I have been here for three days and two nights. It was my wife who put me here. It happened like this:
At dawn, when we wake, she wakes, I see: she, simulacrum of sweetie, presently bovine sweetie, clodhopper lovely, trundle fatly to her boudoir to assess the damage: six digits, the tally. These days, my girl: formidable haunches, breasts sapped of buoyancy, deflated balloon breasts, gobs of fatty skin where there ought only to be loveliness. She squirms into her negligee, once loose-fit, casual, today perilously taut, and thumps into the kitchen. When she walks her feet slap the floor.
La Rambla of Barcelona is like a mile-long circus. Thousands of people speaking 20 different languages come and go on the promenade at all hours of the day, stopping to admire street performers dressed as mermaids, Roman statues, and harlequins … Read More
And what’s more there’d be too much to tell, with his folded-up face and our proximity, the fact that we’d lived so close to each other growing up, that in high school we’d mostly talk to the same girls and … Read More
Listening is like dragons on an uncomfortable day. Last night my feet were cold, biting, I think they bit me. Sunny Bono, but we’ve heard that one before. Yesterday I sold my chappals for an accent to wear in America. … Read More
Sig loves me. He’s sitting at the counter, eating a bagel right now, but I know he’s thinking about me. Today, like every Sunday, he sits all day here in this café where I work. A man across the coffee … Read More
Douglas Coupland’s exhibit in the Vancouver Art Gallery this summer was called “everywhere is anywhere is anything is everything,” and from the instant I saw the title, before I even set foot in the museum, I was not feeling it. The all-lowercase aesthetic felt, to me, like an appropriation by a pretty square art gallery and a not-young man of a look that coded for “youth” and “hipness.”
“I saved a man’s life today.” She’s asleep. I climb into bed. My mouth hovers hot over her ear. “I saved a man’s life today.” That does it. She rolls over and has this medusa look. Quickly, I drop and … Read More
