When the sun takes a seat, the trees will awake and sway in the shade to the rhythm of my feet.
Their pulses will skip as the wind begins to nip at the tip of their branches out of key and offbeat.
F
A
L
L
I
N
G beneath the broken-down wreath that held them like a mother with child asleep,
Snub, seedy seeds spurt like streams to a sea under a mountainous heap...
beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep
I cannot spe e eak!
beep, beep, beep, beep, beEP, BEEP, BEEP
- Alexander McCurdy
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Monday, January 12, 2009
A Glorious Day Out
"Look outside!" she demanded excitingly. "It's snowing!"
She had seen snow before, but every time it fell, she always reacted as if meteors were barraging down from the sky. It always seemed a little over the top, but I loved that about her. She could always take something common and make it unusually beautiful.
I slouched below the half-drawn blinds in the kitchen window and peered through.
"It's snowing, alright," I agreed. "Hard."
I stepped into the garage to get a better view. This was the one time her dramatic reaction was warranted. Snowflakes were savagely plummeting down as if they were frozen meteors. Without any forewarning from the forecasting psychics, it seemed like it was going to be a blizzard. I had been through numerous blizzards before. She had dealt with a plentiful amount, as well. We had even been through a couple together. None of those blizzards were as fierce or abundant as this one seemed to be, but a blizzard is a blizzard nonetheless.
"Let's go out and play," she said looking up to me.
"Oh, alright, but we have to make it fast... before it gets too dangerous," I mundanely replied. I hated that about me. I always took adventurous shenanigans and put a safety label on them. I still do.
We put on our winter-wear and made our way outdoors. She frolicked along in the blustery storm as if she were in a field of flowers on a balmy spring day. I followed close behind, hands in pockets, sporting my best half-smile. She knelt to the ground and started piling heaps of snow toward her. Picking up as much as she possibly could, she firmly pressed the snow together into a tight round lump.
"Do you like my snowball?" she asked looking up to me.
I nodded in cold agreement. The winds started to battle.
She got onto her knees and started rolling the snowball on the white terrain surrounding us. After it almost doubled in size, she paused.
"How does it look now?" she asked looking up to me.
I lifted my glacial hands out of their pockets and gave her two thumps up. The dark was storming in.
I watched her as the lump of snow grew larger and larger to the point when she had to stand up to keep rolling it around. Every minute or so she would look up to me and ask what I thought of her snowball, but all I could do was worry about the blizzard. It was relentlessly rushing away any hopes I had of grasping warmth. I don't know why I had such a fiery exigency to be warm at that moment, but I was done playing in the cold.
"What do you think of my snowball now?" she asked. "I'm going to name him..."
"I don't care what he looks like! What IT looks like!" I viciously corrected. "I've seen snow before, _____. It doesn't change. You can roll it up all you want. It can grow and grow and grow, but it's still going to be snow! It's just fucking snow!"
I kicked her snowball in a murderous rage. It fell beside and atop the white terrain surrounding us. She couldn't tell which flurries were hers or which were untouched, unnamed. She looked up at me one last time, icicles hanging from her eyes. She ran. She ran until I couldn't see her amidst the storm. She ran in a desperate search to be warm again, and if she hasn't been frozen to death, I bet she's still running.
I am the worst blizzard she has ever been in.
- Alexander McCurdy
She had seen snow before, but every time it fell, she always reacted as if meteors were barraging down from the sky. It always seemed a little over the top, but I loved that about her. She could always take something common and make it unusually beautiful.
I slouched below the half-drawn blinds in the kitchen window and peered through.
"It's snowing, alright," I agreed. "Hard."
I stepped into the garage to get a better view. This was the one time her dramatic reaction was warranted. Snowflakes were savagely plummeting down as if they were frozen meteors. Without any forewarning from the forecasting psychics, it seemed like it was going to be a blizzard. I had been through numerous blizzards before. She had dealt with a plentiful amount, as well. We had even been through a couple together. None of those blizzards were as fierce or abundant as this one seemed to be, but a blizzard is a blizzard nonetheless.
"Let's go out and play," she said looking up to me.
"Oh, alright, but we have to make it fast... before it gets too dangerous," I mundanely replied. I hated that about me. I always took adventurous shenanigans and put a safety label on them. I still do.
We put on our winter-wear and made our way outdoors. She frolicked along in the blustery storm as if she were in a field of flowers on a balmy spring day. I followed close behind, hands in pockets, sporting my best half-smile. She knelt to the ground and started piling heaps of snow toward her. Picking up as much as she possibly could, she firmly pressed the snow together into a tight round lump.
"Do you like my snowball?" she asked looking up to me.
I nodded in cold agreement. The winds started to battle.
She got onto her knees and started rolling the snowball on the white terrain surrounding us. After it almost doubled in size, she paused.
"How does it look now?" she asked looking up to me.
I lifted my glacial hands out of their pockets and gave her two thumps up. The dark was storming in.
I watched her as the lump of snow grew larger and larger to the point when she had to stand up to keep rolling it around. Every minute or so she would look up to me and ask what I thought of her snowball, but all I could do was worry about the blizzard. It was relentlessly rushing away any hopes I had of grasping warmth. I don't know why I had such a fiery exigency to be warm at that moment, but I was done playing in the cold.
"What do you think of my snowball now?" she asked. "I'm going to name him..."
"I don't care what he looks like! What IT looks like!" I viciously corrected. "I've seen snow before, _____. It doesn't change. You can roll it up all you want. It can grow and grow and grow, but it's still going to be snow! It's just fucking snow!"
I kicked her snowball in a murderous rage. It fell beside and atop the white terrain surrounding us. She couldn't tell which flurries were hers or which were untouched, unnamed. She looked up at me one last time, icicles hanging from her eyes. She ran. She ran until I couldn't see her amidst the storm. She ran in a desperate search to be warm again, and if she hasn't been frozen to death, I bet she's still running.
I am the worst blizzard she has ever been in.
- Alexander McCurdy
Saturday, January 10, 2009
freezerwave?
someone really needs to invent an inverted microwave. instead of heating your food, it would make your shit really effin cold in a matter of seconds. i had this bag of peanut M&M's sitting in the refrigerator - i don't freeze them, cuz eating a frozen peanut is bad news bears - but by the time i got home this morning, they were gone. i remembered i had an unopened bag of Reese's peanut butter cups in my room, and decided it would suffice. unfortunately, it is room temperature, which is no fun. i put the bag in the freezer, but it's still gonna take at least 15 minutes or so till it's semi-frozen. i wish all chocolaty foods were naturally cool... like me.
- Alex McCurdy
- Alex McCurdy
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