Voila les petites creatures musicales qui se cachent dans les fleurs!

by angeliska on March 6, 2003

yes indeed, my little yickens, the madness has finally passed-
mardi gras is officially over, and now we can go back, thank heavens, to our
regularly scheduled program, with 90% less retarded, drunken tourons getting underfoot..
since i lost my tooth, i really have been the biggest ninny-granny, it is true-
i begged out of lundi gras festivities due to rain and somnolence,
and also in order to wake up at an ungodly early hour to don my finery
and catch the saint ann’s parade, which was as always, the highlight of my mardi gras..
all in all, we had a lovely one- though we did miss the indians and the zulu parade-
but you just can’t do it all, especially when you are in full late 18th century regalia,
corset, wig, copper-wire panniers and petticoats and all-
and pushing a wheelchair in which resides my beloved 89 year old grampapa,
-his first mardi gras- i think he loved it, found it marvelous..
many scantily-clad lasses bestowed him with kisses and beads,
which he enjoyed mightily, i’m sure..
it was wonderful to have him here for it, and to show him my world..
all the costumes were so amazing, and witty and clever-
my favorites were the hello kitty vibrator, the lollipop guild munchkins,
the peking opera actors, and hmm..the saint nino de atocha was quite fabulous,
as well as miss jackie’s yemaya, which sadly, i got no picture of..
all day, everyone was laughing and smiling- it made me truly happy to see it..
hahah, lent is great- i found myself spending my rent money at this fantastic belgian chocolatiers- eve white, with apricot cream! manon dark, with creme de banane!
oh mercy me!
repent, you fucking savages, repent!
today was all light, and half-light-
more pointless arguments, endless errands, letters notarized, emotions summarized..
our foreheads doused in ashes on this- wotan’s day,
the hazy feeling in my throat, the fog that never lifted-
it blocks out the skyscrapers, so that if you squint, it could be one hundred years ago.
out the window, the streetlight snakes amber through black branches,
the night outside- a jewelbox spilling topaz into the heavy clouds of mist..
here’s some fotographs for now-
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