Dear Friends,

I love you so hard
I am popping a wheelie in my heart for you
I love you so hard
it's like a fist through a skull
inappropriate and unnecessarily demonstrative
I love you like this man loves his dog
like a forty loves a stoop
like I love a stoop except more
My love is a zombie--always rarin' to go
it wants to eat your face
I want to eat your face
and the brain behind it
I want to eat your brain and
chew on your spinal chord
like it's breaded calamari
If I could, I would pick you up
and chuck you into some clouds
I would break your glasses
even if you don't wear glasses
I would give you my glasses to wear
and then break them
just to watch you cry
because the tears would be your soul
coming out of your face
for me to look at
If you ever have children
I will swallow them whole
like that greek god and
you'll have to give me a rock dressed
in baby clothes to get me to
puke them back up again
I love you so hard

Birthday Sonnet 2008 by Andrew Bleeker

Lindsey's lines belittle sonnets;
No mle's silty bed
Bends Lindsey's destiny,
No Tolstoy nets Lindsey
In snotty libels, not yet,
So set lids on old lies.

No sots blot Lindsey's libido,
No bodies too solid,
So bellies bode Odin's
Best sin, bent tonsils,
Idols to slide on, so
Stints end in sooty yodels.

Lindsey Boldt is
No snide son, no lost yeti,
No Boston snob, no soiled dildo;
Lindsey is tennis,
O bette to belles:
Dio's diet is Lindsey.

By AB 6/17/08

I think it's happening

La Bamba:  The Ritchie Valens Story

I've been reminded that this is a terrible movie, thank you Jessica (!), and will avoid watching it until after the project is well underway.  Much the same situation with Overboard, except that Overboard is actually quality entertainment, at least the first half.

In the meantime, I have compiled these songs for inspiration and part of the process will involve my listening to them on repeat.  I have begun my research.  

La Bamba

Maybe I'm jumping the gun here.  Maybe I shouldn't be telling you this.  Maybe this is me kicking myself in the pants.  Maybe this is me shooting myself in the foot.  Maybe I should be finishing the 4-5 other projects hovering in various stages of completion.  Maybe this is me jumping off.  Maybe this is me kicking off the summer.  Maybe I'm being too forthcoming.  Maybe I'm being unprofessional.  Maybe you've been wondering, "What's up with Lindsey, anyway?" Maybe you haven't at all or maybe you know quite well.  Maybe I've been wondering that too (yes, duh).

It is nearly time to turn to the insides, where the goods live, and the bads too.  That is where the kid language lives and talks to Ritchie, Donna and Bob and that is where I will have to go.

At any rate, in any case, this is happening, whatever it is and I better go with it.  La Bamba will save me just like Overboard saved me, just like Ponies saved me, just like Titties saved me just like all the many other ones.

Everything is going to be okay.  

Curatorial Practices: Cats

  

Sing Song by Morgan Levy

What You See When You Die

Another Way for Mr. Kitty and I to Meet by Morgan Levy

May 18th by Maxwell Heller

Ulloa-Po! Unleashed!

A literary journal featuring work by students of the Ulloa Elementary After School Program. Hit me up! I have about 40 copies left.

I still love this so much

That I'm posting it again.

I know I've been falling down on the job lately but watch this. You're stoked.

Max Tears it Up

Are you surprised?
Maxwell Heller. Francis Bacon. The Brooklyn Rail.
The answer is no.

Virtually Happy