The Moon Rises and Millay Sets
9-27-02
3:10 PM. Finally the rain falls, dreariness prevails, I should be overjoyed that we are finally getting rain. The waning light and damp are depressing.
I haven't taking a sip of my coffee... too hot.
I browse the literary magazines, read about a poetry contest, heed not the poetry editor's advice to read, read, read poetry, pick up a book of Edna Vincent Millay's poetry in an unconscious response to the exhortations.
"The Poetry of Edna St Vincent Millay combines spiritual intensity with intellectual sophistication..." the book begins. Immediately my mind wanders. I think I know that I have little intellectual sophistication and very little more spiritual intensity. I used to think that I had a special sensitivity to beauty which in a way could be related to spiritual intensity. God knows I have no spiritual intensity in a religious sense. As for intellectual sophistication, I left that self behind years ago. Now I simply don't get half of the stuff I read. I have become more animal, instincts overcome reason as I look less at the book and more at the exposed back of the young woman sitting by the window. It is almost ridiculous that my glances are directed toward the creamy smooth skin between the low rider jeans. And the black knit blouse. Women's backs with their wonderful valleys and channels and back bone traces hold more erotic wonder for me that for most people. She has shifted position and the moon rises. I need your help. Should I go over to her? What would I say? 'I'm sorry but much more of your butt shows than should. ..... Could you please pull up your pants, I'm trying to read? ...." Oh If only I had some sense of control. A. I would not stare and B. I would not write about staring
I need to start an exercise program. My energies are sapped by the end of the day. I seem to be more sleepy than usual. Since I feel that I am only half awake, this is not good. I could say that work and getting to and from work use up all my energy and I would be half right. I do think it is simply a matter of too sedentary of a life.
3:10 PM. Finally the rain falls, dreariness prevails, I should be overjoyed that we are finally getting rain. The waning light and damp are depressing.
I haven't taking a sip of my coffee... too hot.
I browse the literary magazines, read about a poetry contest, heed not the poetry editor's advice to read, read, read poetry, pick up a book of Edna Vincent Millay's poetry in an unconscious response to the exhortations.
"The Poetry of Edna St Vincent Millay combines spiritual intensity with intellectual sophistication..." the book begins. Immediately my mind wanders. I think I know that I have little intellectual sophistication and very little more spiritual intensity. I used to think that I had a special sensitivity to beauty which in a way could be related to spiritual intensity. God knows I have no spiritual intensity in a religious sense. As for intellectual sophistication, I left that self behind years ago. Now I simply don't get half of the stuff I read. I have become more animal, instincts overcome reason as I look less at the book and more at the exposed back of the young woman sitting by the window. It is almost ridiculous that my glances are directed toward the creamy smooth skin between the low rider jeans. And the black knit blouse. Women's backs with their wonderful valleys and channels and back bone traces hold more erotic wonder for me that for most people. She has shifted position and the moon rises. I need your help. Should I go over to her? What would I say? 'I'm sorry but much more of your butt shows than should. ..... Could you please pull up your pants, I'm trying to read? ...." Oh If only I had some sense of control. A. I would not stare and B. I would not write about staring
I need to start an exercise program. My energies are sapped by the end of the day. I seem to be more sleepy than usual. Since I feel that I am only half awake, this is not good. I could say that work and getting to and from work use up all my energy and I would be half right. I do think it is simply a matter of too sedentary of a life.
posted by Kajgreb | 7:15 PM
2 Comments:
I wonder -- does Mary read your musings about women's backsides.
as for the exercise program you promised yourself 4! years ago,
did you ever start and if not just think, you could be on the cover of one of those hunkish mags, glittery with sweaty muscles
Oh those pecs! my god are those calval implants? nay nay, Krebby has been working out
Oh! Sssnnnnnnnnnap! Anna!
I'm enjoying these musings of a man in a book store.
...although I will remember to keep me arse covered the next time I go to Boarders.
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