melancholia

I have been a severe Kirsten Dunst fan since The Virgin Suicides. People who think she's not good should go watch Melancholia. She kicks ass.

double standard

For the one person who still reads my blog (I'd love to know who you are, btw)...

double standard, los angeles, 1961

2.12.08

“smart women cook with gas

in balanced power homes.”

the queen of the billboards,

brown hair in a sleek bouffant, smiles

slyly down at the men pumping

gas, their fingernails dirty, and hers

clean and red. she’d never let

any of them zip up her little black

dress or clasp a strand of pearls

behind her neck. she straddles

two standard gas station signs,

and the men rub their bellies. they hear

her whisper “fill it up, big boy.”

she is smart, but she doesn’t want

to cook pot roasts or casseroles

anymore. she wants to rip off her dress

and put on some blue jeans,

hole up in a house on the coast

and write urban memories

into the pages of a clean

leather- bound book, but she’s

stuck half way into the sky,

painted by an artist who does

the billboard jobs for easy cash.

to her right there is a road

and another one shoots

beyond the horizon on the left.

she watches the car lights

each night and can almost follow them

to the ocean. if she could throw

her embroidered pink apron into the kitchen

disposal she could run

or steal the long-haired man’s motorcycle

when he goes inside to pay.

What do wheels do when they reach

the edge of santa monica—