“the stuff where the composition has a seduction to it” by Julia at her desk

Friday July 5, 2019
7:47pm
5 minutes
From a quote by Jeff Buckley

start with the eyebrow hair, gingerly plucked
by thumb and forefinger from their home there
above the eyes and do not look in the mirror

this will be your first mistake, but darling,
what is life, if not blindly ripping hairs
from your face when you begin to drift away

Write your memoir in the morning, and don’t
worry about hurting the feelings of your
loved ones, they will never read it because
you will never finish it

you will be enchanted by the possibility of all
things but your ground level conscientiousness
will prevent you from getting anything done
and you will want to blame your personality
type or your mother and both will be excuses

start with the melody, floating softly above
your cheek bones and open your mouth to catch
the drops of an almost song on the tip of your
tongue
it will feel good until it dissolves there

“Try and make a few local friends” by Julia on her couch


Monday August 18, 2014
1:03am
5 minutes
girlinflorence.com

My motha, she calls me in the middle of the night. She tells me, Keltie, don’t be that girl. I am not that girl, whatever girl she thinks I am, so I say, motha, please, don’t lump me into that group, for the love of christ. She says, Keltie, I don’t want you to be one of those loser girls who sits on her computer all day checking e-mails and how to blogs about growing vegetables indoors but doesn’t actually buy the seeds to do it. I have to take a moment to think about that one, but she doesn’t stop talking. You know, Keltie, you’ve got to be ahead of the crowd and ahead of yourself. Don’t try and hide behind your looks because you’re not fooling anyone and one day someone other than me is going to expect you to actually do something. I’m sitting up in my bed chugging a glass of day old water, trying to watch the tiny fuzz particles as they hid my teeth. I’m staring at the mirror. I’m plucking out stray hairs on inner thigh, fucking Carla forgot to get those white ones we talked about. Yes, uh-huh, I’m still here, I tell her, but she’s hardly even listening. You want to be one of those sad girls who doesn’t make any friends? Keltie? Promise me you’re going to get drunk at least once so you have the confidence to talk to someone other than your vagina. Ma! My vagina? What fresh hell is this conversation right now? She doesn’t answer for the first time. Promise me, Keltie.