hanzel and gretel went up the hill to fetch a pail of humpty dumpty’s eggs but they came upon the house of the three bears where the first bowl of porridge was too hot and the second too cold and when they were about to eat the last which was just right grandma came down the stairs and they both looked at her and said, my grandma what big teeth you have and the wolf replied, all the better to eat you with! and tore off the grandmother disguise and chased throughout and out of the house where an old witch was stopping by and threw a poisoned apple into the wolf’s jaws and the wolf fell asleep just like that in the woods but the seven dwarfs found him and they were stricken with sorrow and hearing their cries the beast came along and kissed the wolf and suddenly the beast became a charming prince and the wolf awoke with such a fright that he ran off to hide in one of the three pigs’ homes.
vhost edir ldap auth setup
^virtualhost *^
DocumentRoot “data:/www/htdocs/webwork/”
ServerName webwork
ServerAlias loki loki.savo*.us
ServerAdmin admin@savo.us
CustomLog data:/www/logs/loki.savo.us.log combined
LoadModule ldap_module modules/utilldap.nlm
^ifmodule util_ldap.c^
LoadModule auth_ldap_module modules/authldap.nlm
LoadModule edir_module modules/mod_edir.nlm
^directory data:/www/htdocs/webwork^
AuthType Basic
AuthName Private
AuthLDAPURL ldap://planetary/ou=users,o=savopoulos,c=us
require edir-user
Order allow,deny
Allow from 192.168.1
Satisfy any
^/directory^
^/ifmodule^
^/virtualhost^
sleep devotion
every dream has its consequence, some unforeseen cost that can not be accounted for. my mother traded her life for a man that promised her a new world in which he song abandoned her in. and now as her older siblings begin to endure the ravages of time, she weeps because she can only console them thousands of miles away. i gave up a life of words and letters for some sort of normalcy only to lament how precarious and tenuous that normalcy actual is. every dream has its price, if only it was matter of how much sleep could be devoted to it.
knot holes
there is no escape from this. push your fingers through a chain linked fence. feel the paint chip away into your mouth. i taste the bitterness of my life my love, i taste the disgust of the wrongs i’ve done. wasn’t the night once kind? rub your face against the rust, scrape your knee against the foundation. i am nothing more than this, than flesh broken open, than blood ripped out from within. i am weakness, i am pity. cut me into pieces, fit me through the knot holes of all that i am.
ok to delete this
it is ok to delete this post, to wipe it from memory. your daughter struggles with the attentions her newfound brother steals from her. she tosses and turns through the night knowing that something has fundamentally changed. my son gargles and razzes and shrieks like some mad miniature godzilla stuck to our hips as we saddle him around the house. a thick snow blanket over night swaddles our home but my daughter loses her mind at the sight of me stumbling awake. she tugs and pleads and never stops dancing from corner to corner. timidly, her eyes on the tv screen, my wife whispers, do you still like me? you cannot delete this, no matter how much it hurts. it will always radiate outward, it will always overwhelm you. it almost cost you all this.
Project Snowflake: Opening
when they found her, there wasn’t much of her to find. twigs and cracked blush. her nails had always been cut to the quick but painted a deep red, almost black. i would want the blood to be seen, she would tell me, when i made you bleed. her eyes were still open, staring at strewn tic-tacs inches from her mouth. as if she threw them up. a twisted arm was snapped out behind her, her palm in that half grip of someone just barely hanging onto their purse while chasing down a cab. they found one of her shoes by the curb, about fifteen feet away, where she must have tripped, they say, trying to get away. she got away with everything but in the end, it all caught up with her.
breaking addict
you can break a person much more easily than break an addiction. you do not become addicted to people, it is the circumstance, it is the thrill of denial, that you are alright when everything you are doing is wrong. it is not his face. it is not her voice. it is not the feel of warm fingers clasped around your arm. it is none of those things. just as it is not the needle or the spoon or your friend that wiggles the pack before you. it is everything, it is the subversion of everything else. it is the perversion of the person, of the place, of you. it is the wormhole where you never arrive.
alibis of lost lovers
he reaches within her and pulls out tinsel and christmas amongst alibis of lost lovers and shipwrecks along shores cracked off the earth. she touches his chin and can taste mountains of empty bottles of spirits cast off from rooftops but land unbreakable into alleys made of tired bricks and devious mortar. i had been the pinnacle of success, he says and stretches open his chest so that moths can erupt from his sternum and take flight with dizzying turns into a sun that never sets nor rises, merely tosses and turns through this nightmare along the horizon.
can only suffer
nothing was and is ever enough. not promises, not kisses, not even blood. talking in the dark a solitary lamp in the corner that could have been hundreds of miles of away. passion spent, the nausea of the inevitable, the beckoning night laced with roads leading away from everything. I pull on this cigarette with a desire that my body can only suffer.
believer
there is a wound i’ve tended to for a very long time. full of pus, a sore that could not heal. and i poured vinegar and salt on it to keep it from healing. but the wound reached outward and split open the lips of people that i love and i found myself weeping as if i had been the victim when the truth was that i was the cause of it all. she reaches out to me in the dark because she needs me to believe. and in the dark i hold her to learn how to be someone to believe in.