Home > you and me > you and me – POSTCARD #33

you and me – POSTCARD #33

Hey, so I guess it’s been a while, huh?

This postcard was bought in MoMA, New York but sent from Melbourne. Two of my favourite places.

It’s sort of an ode to the short French film Un Chien Andalou. I don’t generally do surrealism but it’s been that kind of month, you know.

Anyway it seemed a fitting and fucked up way to get back into this project of yours and mine. I hope you agree.

wish you were here

Once upon a time…

I woke up this morning and remembered I threw his hat off my roof.

I probably should have felt bad. It wasn’t the hats fault. It’s still sitting on the grimy roof of the Spanish restaurant next door. The best time I ate Spanish food I was angry and in New York. The hat landed right near the grease trap and all this slime and ooze started to weigh it down. Now it looks like a poisonous brick. The little badge that says ‘pussy’ on the side is completely covered in this ooze.

Eight years later…

We were driving along the coast like in that short story I wrote and that song comes and you started singing Moon CHAIN I pulled over on the side of the beach and held your hand tightly and waited for the ants to crawl out. But they didn’t.

Around three in the morning…

The book glared behind me. It bristled its spine.  I hung out of the window and smoked a cigarette with my feet dangling. My stomach hurt on the old red wood and I watched a drunken man sway up the street with a pomegranate clenched in his fist.  The juice ran down his forearm and I thought about screaming HEY been trying to meet you but he might have hit me in the face.

Sixteen years ago…

Before I was pale and buried in her pages, my feet buried beneath me as the others played. Now I bury the book in wet sand because winter’s my favourite. I closed my eyes for the Dormouse. I loved him the most. I opened them to see if I should feel bad as I placed my sister’s dollhouse on the top as a tombstone.

But no-one noticed.


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