law library catalog.
subject: non-legal careers
no matches found. nearby subjects are:
Non Par Value Stocks -- See No-par-value stocks 1
Non Performance Law -- See Breach of contract 1
Non Postal Stamps -- See Revenue-stamps 1
Non Profit Organizations -- See Nonprofit organizations 1
Non Profit Sector -- See Nonprofit organizations 1
Non Profits -- See Nonprofit organizations 1
Non Resistance To Government -- See Government, Resistance to
--subdivision Protest movements under individual wars, e.g. World War, 1939-1945--Protest movements
16 December 2008
11 December 2008
right now
marc says "the most me that i am is the me i am with you"
smoking cloves in the kitchen at 1AM the night before his exam
he says "i am free now
come to NY with me
and my girlfriend"
and i look at the black and white tiles
in the kitchen
the smoke blazing from the clove
the smoke hovering over the champagne glass i have offered
and honestly
i don't know
honestly
against the black and white tiles
i don't know
smoking cloves in the kitchen at 1AM the night before his exam
he says "i am free now
come to NY with me
and my girlfriend"
and i look at the black and white tiles
in the kitchen
the smoke blazing from the clove
the smoke hovering over the champagne glass i have offered
and honestly
i don't know
honestly
against the black and white tiles
i don't know
Labels:
poem
09 December 2008
the buzz
all the little birdies go tweet tweet in my ear/ telling me to pack up the trunks and move up to The City/
if i can make it there i'll make it anywhere
i don't know birdie/ let me have a tête-à-tête with the economy/
whitewash my resumé/
all i know is 2009
is going to contain multitudes
if i can make it there i'll make it anywhere
i don't know birdie/ let me have a tête-à-tête with the economy/
whitewash my resumé/
all i know is 2009
is going to contain multitudes
Labels:
poem
07 December 2008
two
lets go to the movies
and sit in the front row
and cuddle under my scarf 'cause its cooooollllllddd in there
then to the diner with black coffee in mugs
and i'll make some joke about the
fact that you use 'sweet n low'
and you'll act like
you think i'm funny (and blush)
we'll talk about the movie and you'll disagree with me about the ending
and we won't drink
and you won't be married
and i won't be sad and
you won't be french
and we'll get along like foam and waves
you'll bring me presents of little tea cups from flea markets and i'll paint on your bedroom door,
and you'll love me sans makeup at 6 PM, or with fake eyelashes and wigs at 8 in the morning,
and i'll love your plaid socks and your hair after showers, and you'll pretend to like my hideous lamp and i'll pretend to listen when you talk about henry miller and
our friends together will make perfect dinner party guests
and sit in the front row
and cuddle under my scarf 'cause its cooooollllllddd in there
then to the diner with black coffee in mugs
and i'll make some joke about the
fact that you use 'sweet n low'
and you'll act like
you think i'm funny (and blush)
we'll talk about the movie and you'll disagree with me about the ending
and we won't drink
and you won't be married
and i won't be sad and
you won't be french
and we'll get along like foam and waves
you'll bring me presents of little tea cups from flea markets and i'll paint on your bedroom door,
and you'll love me sans makeup at 6 PM, or with fake eyelashes and wigs at 8 in the morning,
and i'll love your plaid socks and your hair after showers, and you'll pretend to like my hideous lamp and i'll pretend to listen when you talk about henry miller and
our friends together will make perfect dinner party guests
Labels:
poem
01 December 2008
June
"Oh June...." they would say.
June has red hair and sleek eyebrows. She has a long neck (like a ballerina) and a small freckle on her earlobe.
"June?" says Jake, "What do you love?"
"Whatever I love," says June, "I love the most at 4:32 AM."
June hasn't repainted the house (the outside) and the paint is chipping like her fingernails and the tip of the nose of the garden gnome. June hasn't cut the grass in ages (the monkey grass) but she personally picks all the dandelions.
"June?" says Jake, "Would you please turn that music down?"
"It is down," says June, "It is the saddest song I know."
June's grandmother lives in a room that smells like cinnamon rolls and has curtains with big yellow blossoms. She (the grandmother) crochets little snowflakes that June puts on her dresses. June's tension is off on her sewing machine.
"Grandmother," says June, "Green tea makes you defensive. Try roobinos."
June walks down one side of the street and runs down the other. She cut her hair to above her ears and bought a pair of glasses from Paris* (the thrift store).
"June?" says Jake, "No one will believe that big diamond on your finger is real, you silly goose."
"I'm married to Mr. Cordova," says June. "He is a scientist in Brazil." June lays in the grass and closes her eyes, she can see the sun through her eyelids and hear the ants scrambling nearby. She runs to the market to buy basil for her grandmother,
there are grass strains on her ballet slippers. Oh, June...
June has red hair and sleek eyebrows. She has a long neck (like a ballerina) and a small freckle on her earlobe.
"June?" says Jake, "What do you love?"
"Whatever I love," says June, "I love the most at 4:32 AM."
June hasn't repainted the house (the outside) and the paint is chipping like her fingernails and the tip of the nose of the garden gnome. June hasn't cut the grass in ages (the monkey grass) but she personally picks all the dandelions.
"June?" says Jake, "Would you please turn that music down?"
"It is down," says June, "It is the saddest song I know."
June's grandmother lives in a room that smells like cinnamon rolls and has curtains with big yellow blossoms. She (the grandmother) crochets little snowflakes that June puts on her dresses. June's tension is off on her sewing machine.
"Grandmother," says June, "Green tea makes you defensive. Try roobinos."
June walks down one side of the street and runs down the other. She cut her hair to above her ears and bought a pair of glasses from Paris* (the thrift store).
"June?" says Jake, "No one will believe that big diamond on your finger is real, you silly goose."
"I'm married to Mr. Cordova," says June. "He is a scientist in Brazil." June lays in the grass and closes her eyes, she can see the sun through her eyelids and hear the ants scrambling nearby. She runs to the market to buy basil for her grandmother,
there are grass strains on her ballet slippers. Oh, June...
Labels:
prose
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