Thursday, January 08, 2009
I am not an igloo. This has been established. I have never been inside an igloo. I have never built one. Igloo is a word that has been passed down to me from generations of primers. Kite is also such a word, queen and yak. The shape of an igloo is a turtleneck on a turtle whose head has been retracted, only stiff. A shirt starched with frozen. When I was in highschool a friend and I wanted boyfriends with tortoise shell glasses and black turtlenecks. Now, I would just like you to remember why me and not someone else, if there was ever such a reason. Occasionally, also, you could say so. You could say so with flowers but they're dying or apples, or by a serenade by xylophone or else by jug or saw. House might seem a warmer word then--less sharp than harm, less drab than habit.
Posted by kirsten at 6:53 AM