the tower, and a line from Gary Indiana’s Do Everything in the Dark: “At the Pera Palas he walks into the kitchen off the dining room. His presence violates some rigid hotel protocol; immediately, several waiters cluster around him, absurdly solicitious, as if he'd just been run over. Jesse asks the handsomest one to open the caviar and bring it to his room.”
the aleatory
“Give me a break.” “Take my wife—please!” Half of a six in the palisades is a seven in the landlocked places. The kind of places named after tools. “Needles.” In a hotel lobby just before midnight, everyone is a 10 (on principle). It crashes away in the morning. The whole form and edifice crashes away. Mansions like sand castles, the point of them was never lasting forever. The shape your body left in the bed is replaced with blankness. Not all catastrophes result in death. Most don’t.
the assignment
Be somebody else’s problem for a change.
the writing prompt
Write, on hotel stationery, a list of genuine reasons you should be famous.
a chune
“social studies (plastic plates remix),” body language
credits: small spells tarot deck by Rachel Howe
Do Everything in the Dark by Gary Indiana
“social studies (plastic plates remix)” by body language
Dear diary, how many times can you finish a novel? Is it embarrassing to keep finishing something you told everyone was already done? I went to a party in Westwood and “networked.” It was nice, even though that is an abominable sentence. I keep having really good ideas in the middle of the night, and actually remembering them, even though I didn’t write them down. It can’t go on forever! But it is spring, so maybe it can.