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#sunbathing
Grandma is bored, she waits for my wedding and perhaps she fantasises that I'm getting pregnant How would it have been with grandfather and her in bed? We don't talk about that just about the afternoons in the sun, gaining some colour for the summer She would have liked that, but at that time people thought differently Anyway, bikinis did not yet exist So much has changed, she reads it to me from the magazine and I laugh at her astonishment She is old, her hair as white as the walls in this sun, lovely Lu does not have to come yet
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Dec 7, 2022
Dec 7, 2022 at 3:34 AM UTC
On the balcony at Grandma's
Yale student radio (wybcx) is playing throughout the suite. I’m working on chemistry problems but when a song I don’t know is good enough to catch my attention, I add it to one of my gazillion Spotify playlists - God, I love the Internet. One of our roommates, Sophy, is from California. She’s brilliant and friendly but almost never leaves her room, which she keeps hot and airless. If I’m in there for more than two minutes I have to start peeling off layers of clothing, one by one. She didn’t seem this odd last semester. We take turns, mediating between Sophy and the living, picking up her meals and packages, like vampire assistants. Then there’s a nice but nerdy guy named Andy, who Anna’s adopted. He’s sitting on our deep, red, four cushion corduroy couch, crafting an essay on his laptop. He’s a divinity student who I rely on to answer my deeper religious questions. “Do you think Jesus went around telling people his mother is a ****** I’d asked. “Jesus had brothers,” he answered, “Have you ever read the bible?” He asks. “My bible is Seventeen magazine.” I say, hand to heart. “Listen to this!” Andy says - a peremptory order to the room - as he begins reading from his paper. “Disruptivist writers who no longer strive for agency, circumventing narrative in order to resemble the fiction construct, risk losing what Robbe-Grillet called the “intelligibility of the world” and themselves illustrate the exhaustion of forms.” Andy paused. “What do you think?” He asked the room. No-one says anything. No-one ever understands what Andy’s talking about. Anna and Sunny are studying and sunbathing in the common room like they’re on some kind of permanent holiday. They occupy two generous rectangles of sunlight streaming in through the closed picture windows. They’re laying on yoga mats, almost shoulder to shoulder, wearing bikinis and Wayfarer Ray-Bans. It’s 12° degrees outside but there’s an oil heater with a fan blowing across it that provides them with a sun-like warmth. Welcome to higher learning 2022
0
Feb 10, 2022
Feb 10, 2022 at 12:07 PM UTC
the suite life
Yale student radio (wybcx) is playing throughout the suite. I’m working on chemistry problems but when a song I don’t know is good enough to catch my attention, I add it to one of my gazillion Spotify playlists - God, I love the Internet. One of our roommates, Sophy, is from California. She’s brilliant and friendly but almost never leaves her room, which she keeps hot and airless. If I’m in there for more than two minutes I have to start peeling off layers of clothing, one by one. She didn’t seem this odd last semester. We take turns, mediating between Sophy and the living, picking up her meals and packages, like vampire assistants. Then there’s a nice but nerdy guy named Andy, who Anna’s adopted. He’s sitting on our deep, red, four cushion corduroy couch, crafting an essay on his laptop. He’s a divinity student who I rely on to answer my deeper religious questions. “Do you think Jesus went around telling people his mother is a ****** I’d asked. “Jesus had brothers,” he answered, “Have you ever read the bible?” He asks. “My bible is Seventeen magazine.” I say, hand to heart. “Listen to this!” Andy says - a peremptory order to the room - as he begins reading from his paper. “Disruptivist writers who no longer strive for agency, circumventing narrative in order to resemble the fiction construct, risk losing what Robbe-Grillet called the “intelligibility of the world” and themselves illustrate the exhaustion of forms.” Andy paused. “What do you think?” He asked the room. No-one says anything. No-one ever understands what Andy’s talking about. Anna and Sunny are studying and sunbathing in the common room like they’re on some kind of permanent holiday. They occupy two generous rectangles of sunlight streaming in through the closed picture windows. They’re laying on yoga mats, almost shoulder to shoulder, wearing bikinis and Wayfarer Ray-Bans. It’s 12° degrees outside but there’s an oil heater with a fan blowing across it that provides them with a sun-like warmth. Welcome to higher learning 2022
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11
In winters, Sunbathing is divine, And soothing.
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Feb 12, 2017
Feb 12, 2017 at 5:27 AM UTC
Sunbathing
Summer sands swim with them; Their patchwork towels Crowd them in. Lying, shining in the sun, On their bellies With wet sand bums. Shades of innocence On their faces; On their backs With fleshy dunes, Tanning lines That start at noon. They test the shoreline Every so often, To cool their curves In Great Lakes waters. The palpable heat Rises in waves From the hot, hot bods On these Great Lakes babes.
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Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 1:48 PM UTC
Great Lakes Babes