#shopping
There once was a fella who farted
A **** that was only half-hearted:
His friend tried to best him
And really impressed him
By ******** a brick when he sharted.
Mar 14
Mar 14, 2026 at 7:23 AM UTC
By a river that refuses to hush,
where the dam keeps time with a steady rush,
a red mill leans into weather and years,
holding more stories than counting appears.
You find it by trying, by missing a turn,
by letting the signal bars quietly burn.
Gravel announces you've come far enough,
the water says welcome in river-wide rough.
Inside, the floors creak a knowing hello,
as if every footstep's a tale they all know.
The shelves don't align the way logic insists,
they wander like thoughts that refuse to be kissed.
Here books don't behave, they migrate and hide,
they wait to be found by the curious-eyed.
You reach for one spine, another one calls,
and time loses grip on its minutes and walls.
I've played here with bands, let the songs find their way,
worked long-ago tables where plates held the day.
Between chords and chapters the truth still remains,
this place understands how attention sustains.
The river keeps reading beneath every room,
a low steady voice pushing sentences through.
And up by the windows with coffee and bread,
ideas slow down and decide to be read.
If books are not needed, that's part of the joke,
we need them like air once the world's finally spoke.
The mill knows the secret, stays stubbornly still,
a home for the lost and the willingly thrilled.
Feb 6
Feb 6, 2026 at 8:37 AM UTC
My wife sent me down to the store
She said buy this and not one thing more
I returned having spent
At least two months rent
Now my wife is passed out in the floor
Jan 2
Jan 2, 2026 at 8:34 PM UTC
shop til you drop
quite literally
mentally and physically
marketing and advertising got you fantasising,
now you’re compromising yourself…
unfortunately, that new bag won’t replace your emotional baggage,
and you can’t cover up everything with that brand new jacket,
instead of opening up, you open up packets
feeling satisfied when you rip off the plastic
you stare at your purchase hoping to feel something,
yet you feel nothing…
that feeling must be crushing
the disappointment with each item is heavier,
you thought the more the merrier,
but nothing seems to be enough…
once you start it’s hard to stop,
cause when the happiness runs out, you’ll keep trying to fill it up…
you forgot the difference between want and need,
and now that retail therapy has turned into greed
Dec 24, 2025
Dec 24, 2025 at 11:35 AM UTC
South coast days on end
The ante meridiem
Married to summer
People in constant motion
To the merry-go-round we go
To the merry-go-round we go
In the center
Like the mobile over my bed
Where the heart beats
Where our eyes see in teleidoscope
Inside the lines are brighter
And wider and envelop
The journey in itself
Is the gift
Apr 11, 2025
Apr 11, 2025 at 9:44 AM UTC
Churn barley
Hearts blame foragers
Doolies quate barging out
Of the queue
To fire up lovely views of
Damage done to words
The meal is not a choice
The kitchen and dining area
Are fermented with suicide
Bleach
Something there will be replaced.
Feb 4, 2025
Feb 4, 2025 at 7:57 PM UTC
If you’re looking for yuletide cynicism here,
you’re shopping in the wrong place.
This is New York City’s time of year.
It’s stood the test of time and it fairly sparkles,
proving that the ordinary can be extraordinary.
With the right lighting.
Lisa’s (parent’s) apartment glitters like our promised heaven on high.
When we left at Thanksgiving, Michael (Lisa’s dad) had the concierge
service stressed, toting boxes of decorations up from their storage area.
When I waved my goodbyes, he appeared to be wrestling an octopus of
cool-white fairy lights into submission. Now everything glitters pyrite bright.
Our holiday time is limited—and this is our chance to unwind—so we’re
selective about what we decide to embrace. For instance, there was a sale
at Michael Kors where, no big deal, I got a pair of brogue, black
leather wingtips that’ll be straight fire with a little black dress.
The bargains were so good that I decided the store must be a drug front.
Not that I’m complaining. Do I ever complain? Nope, I’m stoic.
Like Eric Adams, the mayor of New York, Lisa and I’ve
been “testing the product” of Manhattan's club scene.
We’re searching diligently for the new and unfamiliar.
When it comes to picking which clubs we want to visit,
Charles, our driver and escort (a retired NYPD cop),
has gone as far as to suggest, we’re “out of our depth,”
and refused to let us even try one or two DJ’d, pop-up clubs
in Queens that were getting a lot of heat and likes.
“Roosevelt Avenue is the new 42nd Street,” he’d said.
What does that even mean??
Indignant silence
Anyway,
I hope Christmas finds you all merry and bright and that your holidays—whichever you celebrate— are carnivals of food, music, friendship and love—for those are the luxuries that count the most.
Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah! Merry Kwanzaa, Happy Festivus!
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Songs for this:
Absolutely Everybody by Vanessa Amorosi
Rock With You by Traincha
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A Christmas Playlist—because there's 4 days til Christmas
https://daweb.us/xmas/Christmas_28.mp3
Dec 21, 2024
Dec 21, 2024 at 8:11 AM UTC
Our hot girl summer rolls on - like lava downhill or male models doing - anything.
We’re in Athens, Georgia, yes, it’s hotter elsewhere - but you can die in the sun - is this really a competition?
Fashionistas and trendsetters are adorning themselves in fluorescent lime green this summer. Making it the must-have statement color for the cool kid's club. The whole aesthetic was inspired by Charli XCX’s lime-green album cover for ‘Brat.’
Now, before you roll your eyes at the state of America, where silly people are bilked by influencers - isn't that what happened in the 60s with ‘flower-power?’ Wasn’t that ‘counterculture’ flagging, where everything from school buses to bikinis were flower adorned, driven by bands like the Beatles and umm.. [fill in the blank]?
So, we tripped (sounded psychedelic) to the mall of Georgia, to shop for unnecessary, lime-green things. Nail polish (which I think eats), beach bags, coverups, Crocs, friendship bracelets (cause we’re 13-year-olds), Cinnabon's - which aren’t technically green but are delicious and the Apple store - because it makes us happy.
I’ve read, or heard it said that “malls are dying.” Not this one, on a weekday mid-morning it was packed. The line for the eighteen-movie-plex looked like Spring Festival (Chinese New Years) at the Beijing airport.
Sadly, it’s time to admit that as 20-year-olds we’ve aged out of the “Clare’s” esthetic. A 12-year-old in line to get her ears pierced, looked at me, while I was looking at friendship bracelets, like I was her grandmother and I felt it - it was real.
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Two songs to go with this:
This Girl's In Love (Live At HMH) by Trijntje Oosterhuis
Riviera Life by Caro Emerald
Jul 12, 2024
Jul 12, 2024 at 1:38 PM UTC
It's the weekend (Friday night). Lisa and I are hangin’, music’s playing, and we’re rummaging through my suitcase, for an outfit option, for me, tonight. Call it cliché, but we like going out - and getting ready to go out with a friend, beforehand, is one of the rituals of beauty culture.
Let’s get poetic!
*If the sun is gonna shine
in an endless blue (climate-changed) sky,
if the temperature’s going to climb,
until eggs on sidewalks fry,
then it’s lighter, summer-wear time.*
I made sure Lisa and I had two days, in Paris, to shop the Rue Saint-Honoré. ***** 5th avenue, the 1st arrondissement is la capitale of fashion - after all, it’s Coco Chanel's old haunt. Now, we have Armani, Chloe, Dior, Michael Kors, Hermès and Versace - just to name a few - I mean, gag a fashionista.
Looking for bargains? You’re in the wrong place.
If you’re down and thinking the world is turning to.. well, something bad, then you NEED some fashion, some beauty and some elegance. You don’t even need to buy anything - browsing is sumptuous.
The boutiques are sound-proofed - so the world won’t intrude - and thickly carpeted so even your steps are muffled - or marble floored, polished to a fractured brilliance under the lit spiderwebs of fallen-star-lights. And the fragrances - no cap - the very air is different - it smells like aged money - that was a joke - they take new money these days.
What’s important, in these palaces of style, are the whispered promises of unattainable beauty. Just browsing will up your game, because inspiration is everywhere, in sheens that put butterflies to shame, supima-cottons as soft as a sigh, and dresses that swirl like magic - and so many accessories.
Lisa and I are young and easily ignored. Sales staff in these boutiques wear a leotard of arrogance, that fits like skin - the arrogance of people talking down to lesser folk.
Lisa gasped when she saw a delicate, white ecru-cotton and silk-poplin mid-length shirt-dress by Dior. “Look at this,” she said softly, running her fingers along the delicate hem. I checked the tag, it read: €2770 ($3000).
At that moment, a salesgirl - who looked to be 25ish - stalked over with a "look but don't touch" vibe that implied we weren’t worthy to touch the merchandise - or maybe be there at all.
I bristled for Lisa, who’d withdrawn her hand as if burnt. I fished my phone from my clutch (it has a card-carry-case attached) and waved my black Centurion® Card (which can serve as a fu^k-you passport),
“Have you got this in a French-36?” I jibbed, obstreperously (of course I know Lisa’s size). If my return-rudeness stung the salesgirl, there was nothing she could do with it.
An older lady that I assumed was her supervisor joined us, all smooth smiles and low honey voice, “Hello ladies,” she said, as she glided around us like a wraith. “Go see (about the dress),” she told the young clerk, dismissively.
The original salesgirl gave us a brittle smile that came and went like an eye blink, “Oui,” she said, smartly, while spinning away like a top.
“Would you like a glass of wine or champagne?” The supervisor purred.
“Non, merci (No thank you),” I said, smiling curtly.
“We have it,” the original sales girl announced a moment later.
“We’ll take it,” I pronounced.
“NOo,” Lisa said, jerking as if electrically shocked.
I waved my hand, as if scattering dust, “My treat.”
Lisa insisted on trying it on. It fit like a dream and she looked like a supermodel (My dress needed tailoring - the bust taken in sigh). So, at least we know what she’s wearing tonight.
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songs for this:
Glamor Girl by Louie Austen
Baby You’re a Superstar by NuDisco
Comme ci, comme ça by ZAZ
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Our cast:
Lisa, (roommate) 20, Manhattanite ‘glamor girl’ (who’d bristle at that description but it’s hundo-p true.) - my bff. A fellow (pre-med) molecular biophysics and biochemistry major.
Jun 1, 2024
Jun 1, 2024 at 12:59 PM UTC
Am I really upset over this shopping cart?
This cart that is full of heavy and huge products.
Am I upset over how many people may make me stop and block my path in this store?
Every single one, just trying to get by, with their very own shopping cart.
No.
It must be this feeling of being unheard.
To follow and soon becoming lead.
But where is progression when those who follow, don’t.
Annoyance, overstimulation, anger, boil.
Every stop, turn, push.
Stop.
Turn.
Push.
Is it my fault we’re here?
Perhaps next time I’ll come alone.
Dec 11, 2023
Dec 11, 2023 at 8:10 PM UTC
In realms of cyberspace, I fly
searching out treasures in disguise
skirting advertised merchandise
the ordinary, the overemphasized
to anatomize the marginalized
values overlooked otherwise
on the dusty, neglected, virtual aisles
of small sites not over-commercialized
or google ranked and over-publicized
some unexpected payoffs materialize
glittering swag, patiences prize
“Oh, my God - Look!” I vocalize
My girlfriends can’t believe their eyes
“You can find anything,” they surmise.
Oct 20, 2023
Oct 20, 2023 at 7:30 AM UTC
I went to Walmart this morning - yes, it was very brave.
My dander was up - I was on high alert - for active shooters and the unmasked.
Then I saw him! A man on the cookie aisle - he looked like he had the monkeypox!
So I kicked him in the nuts and ran - you can’t be too careful out there.
It turns out that he was just an 80-year-old retiree wearing a polka-dot shirt.
I apologized - from a safe distance - as the paramedics carted him away.
It felt like a close call.
May 25, 2022
May 25, 2022 at 10:10 AM UTC
Twice in one week,
Then never before;
Have I stayed hidden that long?
I think no o'er has seen me more;
I've made myself too meek.
Yet here I am again,
Making it all about the bad.
She accepted me for who I was;
She did not grow fearful, disquieted, mad,
To her I was a person, not a sinful stain.
In at least one place,
That store on the high-street,
I can be what I am, who I want to be.
She was someone I was happy to meet
For she wasn't disgusted to see my face.
Jan 4, 2022
Jan 4, 2022 at 12:33 PM UTC
I pray to that know-it-all Inter-web
- that I can book a safe beach vacation.
That I’ll meet some nice cahtholic boy online
- without **** fueled expectations.
Weber-net, without undo downtime
- please address my ongoing frustrations.
I need my Christmas loot on time
- and not priced-up by supply-chain inflation.
AIs, who are listening, it’s time to send me a sign
- beep or whir to let me know you heard my small rogation
Nov 22, 2021
Nov 22, 2021 at 9:41 AM UTC
Don't know what I need
Till I see it on the net
The pictures look great
Reviews say it's worth having
Close the lid and go to bed
Nov 13, 2021
Nov 13, 2021 at 12:30 PM UTC
Fashion’s symbolic sensuality draws eyes, stir passions and maybe even resentments! =]
Of course, maybe you’re above worldly conceits, above fashion. YOU, go through life as unaware as sinless Adam and you’re excessively handsome, or pretty, obviously.
But for the rest of us - fashion is the medium of our beauty and God created Paris for fashion.
We’re pretending we’ve come to Paris (our immediate, pandemic safety-pod-family) for a family reunion - but REALLY, we’re on safari - a freshmen, college-wear, “back to school,” ensemble hunt (for meeeeeeeeeeee!).
Step 1 (there’s only 1 step) - go to the Rue Saint-Honoré.
This year, I like-like Anna Molinari - most of the ready-to-wear daily-trash I snapped-up is hers - all hers. It didn’t start out that way - but she sould me on an uncharted course at first sight.
Other designers seem to be pushing old-lady-looking floral prints this season. Eeuw! Why?? DIAF.
My gran-mère (grandmother) told me - 6 days ago - as she attempted to tame my run-away hair: “You need to be unpredictable, petite beauté, not some comely young automaton. Then everyone will find you interesting and watch to see what you do next.”
Thank you, gran-mère - I’ll settle for looking interesting any time.
Jul 30, 2021
Jul 30, 2021 at 8:42 AM UTC
i need to stop
getting depressed
and getting ideas
and making impromptu trips
to craft stores
Mar 17, 2021
Mar 17, 2021 at 8:03 PM UTC
a really bad habit to get into
is retail therapy
you know, buying things
when your mental health *****
well i've been stuck in that habit
for a while
and today after school
i went and spent sixty dollars
on things that i didn't even need
Feb 18, 2021
Feb 18, 2021 at 9:26 PM UTC
(a poem in Senryus)
You don’t have to count,
when you lose a boyfriend, you
know. There was just one.
He was gone before
I knew it - he wasn’t, you know,
tied up or anything.
For a moment I
toy with saying, “Alexa, add
rope to my shopping list."
In High School boyfriends
come and go - it's like shopping
- where you return things.
Dec 12, 2020
Dec 12, 2020 at 7:10 AM UTC