trolling today around the long beach parade. if you see me say hi! i don’t bite unless you want me to…..
i just saw a three story inflatable rainbow penis. it will haunt me forever.
love you girls,
ellaenza
Taking Off Emily Dickinson’s Clothes
(Billy Collins)First, her tippet made of tulle,
easily lifted off her shoulders and laid
on the back of a wooden chair.
And her bonnet,
the bow undone with a light forward pull.Then the long white dress, a more
complicated matter with mother-of-pearl
buttons down the back,
so tiny and numerous that it takes forever
before my hands can part the fabric,
like a swimmer’s dividing water,
and slip inside.You will want to know
that she was standing
by an open window in an upstairs bedroom,
motionless, a little wide-eyed,
looking out at the orchard below,
the white dress puddled at her feet
on the wide-board, hardwood floor.The complexity of women’s undergarments
in nineteenth-century America
is not to be waved off,
and I proceeded like a polar explorer
through clips, clasps, and moorings,
catches, straps, and whalebone stays,
sailing toward the iceberg of her nakedness.Later, I wrote in a notebook
it was like riding a swan into the night,
but, of course, I cannot tell you everything -
the way she closed her eyes to the orchard,
how her hair tumbled free of its pins,
how there were sudden dashes
whenever we spoke.What I can tell you is
it was terribly quiet in Amherst
that Sabbath afternoon,
nothing but a carriage passing the house,
a fly buzzing in a windowpane.So I could plainly hear her inhale
when I undid the very top
hook-and-eye fastener of her corsetand I could hear her sigh when finally it was unloosed,
the way some readers sigh when they realize
that Hope has feathers,
that reason is a plank,
that life is a loaded gun
that looks right at you with a yellow eye..
[Image: Collo di donna, 1950 (Federico Vender)]
Badass Jewelry-
(via lauramakabresku)
i am in california. yesterday afternoon i took off for the beach and the ocean. i haven’t left.
silly enza time. while i was working in the heat two days ago bending hauling flicking sweat off my face with my fingers i noticed that i was watched. by a lot of people. they tried to pretend they weren’t but…
so oh well i just keep going working and sweating and the looks got longer and more open and i finally lost it. what the fuck is going on? i yell. then these little old fingers tug on my shorts with dear, come here and takes me to the water truck and hands me a mirror.
i look like i’m in a wet t shirt contest. i’m so soaked thru my shirt is transparent glued to my body with my nipples going pokey.
i never noticed. silly enza. the guys on my own crew are used to it sort of, and i never think about it. but here? with no bra since i don’t own any and a soaking wet white t shirt dirty with soot and ashes from the fire. i’m hot and i look hot. i’m doing a porn prance
so i did the only thing i could do. i took my shirt off and worked bare back just like the men.