Ellipse Machine; abs; stretching. Walked back. Michelle or I am moving out soon. We are blue, obviously. Obviously.
I only had ten minuted to do an erg because of the time.
Things were well-yummy.
Half the cast and crew of Caucus Systems got axed.
In the beginning there was URBAN.NET And Chris felt the pull of creativity The need to begin a community.
I had the domain name URBAN.NET and I wanted to create a community based on urban people and their wants and needs.
I had my dream: my own copy of Caucus and my own Server -- what to name it?
I got the job at the same salary I was getting at Treas and still had to wait a couple months so that I could have my knee surgery.
firstname.lastname@example.org email@example.com Thu, 14 Oct 1999 12:36:55 -0400
©1999 Chris Abraham
Collaborative Hyperfiction written between 02-SEP-97 and 31-AUG-1998
In March only the smokers stood outside on the street where the party was allowed to spill.
Love poem written for Michelle in Hawaii from DC.
I don't even know where this poem came from. It really must have been possession, because this isn't very much me. Or is it? Well, its certainly innuendo.
The sky took the morning. Birds tore small holes in the quiet.
This poem is the end of a series of 1997-era poetry about seeing my friend Kathryn Medland after a few years. She was an amazing friend who I always adored for her love and lust for life. She honored me by featuring the work as part of her wedding reception's party favor and printed my words along with her other faves (e.e. cumming, etc.) and offering them to her wedding guests. It was high honor to me.
Mark and I keep Kayaks at Jack's Boats and since I was writing too much about girls and about psychobabble, I thought it prudent to allow my inner naturalist to surface.
The first rain brought all the leaves to the slick city streets.
I see that I wrote a lot of love poems when I was in my 20s
Poem published Dec 29, 2002 - 09:26 PM
This is another of the poems that Kathryn Medland printed out to share with her wedding party. It was my biggest artistic honor to be there, like placemats, sitting at random table-settings. To be commingled and cojoined with the work of e.e. cummings.
A collaborative spontaneous hypernarrative I catalyzed back in 1997.
I visited Houston for a while in 1996. The Rothko Chapel is worth visiting Houston to see. It really can convince even the most resolute naysayer that there is something greater than ourself.
It's funny to find odd little treasures like this poem. I mean, what was it about the discman that made me feel like writing a poem?
In 1996, Anne Brossard and I traveled around the globe. Anne was in the last stage of freedom before attending graduate school at Columbia, and I a photographer. And I wrote this poem about the oppressive heat of Singapore, which is nothing compared to DC funk.
I usually don't write too much about places, especially in the US. Although I found this one, which is about Texas.
I guess I used to romanticize smoking French cigarettes.
©1996 Kathryn Medland
This was inspired by Anne Sexton "I Remember"
©1996 Ariane Conrad