Monday, May 15, 2006

Oops, I Think I Killed Her


Woody Allen says "The heart wants what the heart wants." I believe every single thing Woody says and even gave money to a Woody Allen Defense Fund (okay a tip jar on a grad student's desk) when he was first involved with his pseudo-adopted daughter. This did not make me like Woody less. Life is complicated, and I never did like Mia Farrow, truth be told. I'm more of a Louise Lasser girl myself, although I think Diane Keaton was fantastic for Mr. Allen. Tony Soprano modifies Woody's statement: "The heart wants what the dick wants." All righty! To quote Sex and the City: "Relationships are like couture. If they don't fit perfectly, they are a disaster." I've spent my life wearing things that don't fit, hoping I would be thinner or fatter, would be taller or shorter, be something else. I had a friend who poured Clorox over his hands after contracting poison ivy and burned away the itching. I wonder if he burned new lines in his hands, changed his future. Maybe the pain was worth it. Given my nature, I'd say it was.

Michelle's Spell of the Day

"You fit into me/ like a hook into an eye/ a fish hook/ an open eye." Margaret Atwood

Sex in the Coldest Place You Can Imagine (the anti-Sex on the Beach)

1 part champagne
1 part pineapple juice
1 part cranberry juice

Serve chilled.

Benedictions and Maledictions

First published in Convergence

Hello, My Name Is

You leave the bar with a man you don’t
know. Never? Keep reading -- you’re
safe. Alone in Central Park, August,
a month of endings and this is yours.
Your killer claims that a cat scratched
him, then that you raped him, finally
that the whole incident was rough sex
gone too far, namely your dead body
under his. Who can dispute this? Not
you. You’re dead. Meanwhile, out
on bail, your killer goes to a party, chokes
a Barbie doll until her head pops off, says
Hello, my name is -- oops, I think I killed
her
. Laughs. Some of the other guests
laugh, others look down at their drinks.
One girl titters, says, You’re horrible, Robert,
slaps him on the arm. He turns, flashes
a smile, says not really that horrible, darling.

4 comments:

Cindy said...

Oh my God, Michelle, you look so much like Nicole Kidman it's creepy. But Beautiful! And unlike sweet Nicole, you did NOT fall for Tom Cruise -- thank God! Rock on, babe -- you're my honey!

xo
Cindy forever

Paul said...

Mighty Isis one day, Bewitching the next? Sweet. Nice shot to wake up to. The poem gives me the willies, though. The entry before the drink recipe sounds sensible to me. Oriental wisdom almost or Asian I should say minding my manners.

R2 C2!

Cheri said...

I remember this poem from class, and I loved it! I especially love the title of this blog, it goes well with the poem.
Cheri

John said...

Dear Michelle,

I definitely see the resemblance to NK. Beautiful shot! The poem is great, if terrifying. And cheers to the great Woody. His new London film Scoop ought to be comedic again, though I did enjoy Match Point and its location shots. Cheers to you.