bouquiniste

recreating the spirit of Montparnasse of the 20s/30s

[amandaearl]

[amandaearl]

[amandaearl]

[the-night-picture-collector]

Esther Bubley, Third Avenue, New York, 1951

[amandaearl]

[amandaearl]

Shuntaro Tanikawa, Carl Sagan, Maggie Smith, Amy Gerstler, Suleika Jaouad, Pat Schneider, & Briana Ní Loinsigh helped me get thru the week. I hope they help you too, in this week's QOTW post. https://amandaearl.substack.com/p/25-01-12-25-01-18-qotw

[amandaearl]

The White Butterfly At Little Victories On Elgin

government worker on lunch break wants me pre-lubed with no “panties,” his words, in the dress I wore yesterday on Snapchat my tits hanging out

I kneel and lick his toes, looking up I notice the condom which will deprive me of the satisfaction of swallowing

I like his soft chest hair he tells me the pic of my furry cunt gave him a hard on

I have never spent that long licking balls he holds off though despite complimenting my tongue skills as I press my face against him and he holds my head down

a new condom for doggy, my ass hanging over the edge of the bed and my fingers lubing up my cunt again to avoid what happened with A, the young man from Saudi Arabia in May whose fucking made me bleed

after government worker comes he puts his clothes on right away I’m a free noon whore

I ask him about the tattoo in Arabic on his inner arm he tells me it means hope

he admires the visual poetry hanging on the hallway wall

after he goes I put on an upcycled flower dress from Montreal and wander up Sparks to Elgin to Little Victories where I order an Iced Americano and sit outside in the shade

a white butterfly or perhaps it is a daydream plays in the tall ornamental grass or I suppose you can say it flies in between the long green blades distracting me from reading a poem about a see-through leaf

I’ve taken up meditation to help me manage pain

a busker on Sparks covers Nick Cave’s In My Arms

I’m celebrating, you see with a blow job to a stranger and coffee alone on a sidewalk patio

I want the white butterfly to land on me a moth to a flame it returns as if I’ve conjured it out of my imagination

a young woman in white faces me at an adjacent table, the wind blows her long, brown hair off her shoulders

[amandaearl]

Upper Lorne, Victoria Day Weekend

past the no exit sign I like to find secret round the corner walks but I share off Primrose them with those past the magnolia tree I love and the lilacs today Charles the statue of Mary and I did my daily Magdalene on the church walk even though the house now for sale humidity made us both don’t go down the metal sticky and sweaty stairs freezing in winter maybe it was a little shorter and hot to hang on to than the thirty minutes in summer recommended whose bright idea I to walk so it’s no was a staircase hard task in the made of metal moderate temps sit on the bench we’ll see how I do made from a coupla in the above 30s old trees stumps or 20 belows for wheels a car what secrets shaped bench can be found to rest on in the blinding snow take a gander except the dreams at the innovative the mind conjures three story tall with a blank house on the corner canvass or a wind wander past each that pierces wooden century through layers home back on of winter clothing to Somerset it’s restful and go to Kowloon to think of winter for the burdock root when it’s too hot and duck egg on the long weekend five varieties of pears in May the Victorians lemon leaf in plastic celebrating like it’s wrap and styrofoam 1899 with the 24s get back home before and bbq the thunder

[amandaearl]

O, lilacs

Thursday’s heat has unleashed the fragrance of just bloomed lilacs the colour of the pale pink ring encircling my nipple that I trace for you with a wet finger as you watch it rise I thumb over it, down and up then cup the breast and squeeze to show you the upturned plump little nub sweet little berry-like nub which I take between thumb & index finger I raise my breast higher and lean down so I can reach it with my tongue

[amandaearl]

on the first warm day I wear my brown corduroy mini skirt and knee-high sunflower socks swaying my hips and feeling sexy

listening to women singing through my headphones

I enjoy the sly glances of men as they check out my naked legs

I smile and think about how we’re all horny in the spring

I take photographs of chairs, bird houses and the first magnolia tree in bloom the air is full of the scent of trees about to burst

I like to look up when I’m on my knees with a guy’s cock in my mouth

the way it gets harder when he sees my dark brown eyes grow wide with desire nothing makes me feel more aroused than giving pleasure

I walk toward the big blue sky behind a woman in a short dress blowing in the breeze I love her strappy orange high heels her calves are so shapely I want to follow them up with my tongue

It’s been months since I’ve pleasured a stranger I’m jonesing for a little patio time, followed by intimate explorations and silly conversations in bed but it’s still a little soon so I share naked photos of myself on FetLife a poor substitute for sweat and licks and cum

a red cardinal perches on a bare tree in front of the funeral home on Cooper a rare sighting downtown they say this is the presence of a loved one who has died

[amandaearl]

ever been in the circus? I eat a strawberry with cold sticky hands on a bench in Dundonald Park in the sun grateful for the bathrooms at Staples grateful for the egg salad sandwiches at Massine’s and the strawberries too, even though one of them was moldy I waited until I got to the bench before I opened the food didn’t even struggle with the plastic container like I usually do I think I had my first blood sugar low in the grocery store all panicky and giddy and maybe lightheaded it was seriously weird and I knew I had to eat something on Fetlife I suggested folks join me at the park for a meander downtown but thirsty dudes were the only ones to respond and they stopped messaging me when they learned all I wanted was conversation not a fingering in the park or some idiotic horn-toad idea in the elevator I chatted with a man who pushed 22 meaning he lived on the top floor, 2 floors up from me he laughed at something I said when I got into my apartment I discovered the glob of egg salad on the front of my coat I poured milk into my little flowered mug grabbed a slice of roast beef sat on the couch, then spilled milk onto the carpet and a bag full of books and chapbooks after only a few sips I guess I was feeling it still the giddy weird lightheadedness I thought I was going to faint in the store but I still chatted up the lanky fella with the sour cream and yogurt containers stacked somehow between chin and hands by means of long arms I asked him if he’d ever been in the circus and he said he had!

[amandaearl]

April 27: snow

up the hill between Preston and Booth, looking in the Corner Peach windows I used to like to sit at the bar at lunch time on a weekday drink a glass of good red while dipping some fresh bread into the soup of the day and listening to the conversations of folks I imagined to be secret lovers

past the former apartments of friends and former friends and the pho place where poets used to gather after readings late at night or early in the morning

I love how green and strong the tulip leaves are looking now they can withstand the weather, but can I? first it rained then it snowed I carried no umbrella I put up my hoodie and made myself small to fit between raindrops I like to disappear when I’m out pretend I’m a ghost capable of rising like smoke or blowing away like ashes, sparks, embers

[amandaearl]

she’s a choreographer of the refrigerator one crisper contains Polaroid film low carb and full of protein red onions are peel to pulp with berries safe in their plastic boxes while the celery lies limply beside cartons of eggs with the marge wedged in the back the carrots are stowed in the cupboard in a box of toilet cleaner pads and clean sponges she doesn’t know how she’ll reach the milk on Monday morning bleary eyed and low blood sugared to add to the coffee she’s not supposed to drink because the tower of tomato cans: pureed, diced, leftover crushed may reach their tipping point unless she is a Jenga expert at six in the morning

[amandaearl]

Little Red Ghost

she’s a red ambler a red dreamer a red meanderer in the daylight striding quick quick slow slow slow quick as it suits her mood past the red and white buses and the cars with workers en route

home early for a booze soaked Friday night and a narcotic stream of bland comic book heroes they idolize

Fox Confessor Brings the Flood in her ears the girl in a red hoodie walks through a fierce north wind before Central Hope

craving chai, craving sugar, counting the imaginary carbs of imaginary meals

skateboarders make daring jumps at McNabb blond ponytails rising as they wheel up and down concrete curves

his place is nearby he once asked her to put her used panties in his mailbox she’s always hated that word

she stuffed a thin orange cotton thong in her mouth and sent him the photo then snapped it to the fellas it arouses her when cocks turn hard from her

who’s invisible on the streets in her red outfit as she looks in their eyes

[amandaearl]

toasting walnuts to get rid of the tingle in my mouth when I eat them I can’t eat many other types of nuts that are healthy for diabetics or at least eat them unaccompanied but walnuts are good fat, offer fibre and protein the grab and go options like a handful of popcorn or almonds or raw carrots and celery on their own are dangerous for me you can microwave walnuts for two minutes they won’t have the same golden colour as they do when you put them in the oven or on the stove I’m a grab and go person distracted and busy with all my projects or asleep and in need of fast digestible food when I wake up yesterday I began my exercises by doing a robot walk because I feel like everything has to be regimented now you know how I love structure imposed externally I’d rather let my body and mood determine what I do how many things do I have to give up in my life just to keep going I’m waiting to be told I shouldn’t sleep after meals I’m thinking about how sleep is my favourite thing and sometimes I wonder what the point of getting up at all is

[amandaearl]

dead squirrel on Percy

I thought it was a small black suede purse with gold trim or clasps I leaned a little closer it upset me the curved position of the body the squirrel lay on the street, totally still a yellow crushed blur must have been guts I saw no blood I thought I would cry so I walked quickly away I’m not keen on squirrels their eyes look empty to me and that freaks me out but I felt so sad to see this little dead thing I’ve watched them run across Percy all the time always relieved when they survive I wonder whether the driver noticed the tiny bump or the crunch of a little skull as the car moved forward Percy is a one-way street that begins at Laurier and travels up a hill to the Glebe the driver could have been en route to lunch or a business meeting did this upset them too killing an animal are they grieving now were they alone or travelling with a child in a car seat in the back trying to get things done distracted and harried always fretting like we all are these days the days that are mostly the same with no reprieve

[amandaearl]

an omelet isn’t easy

once upon a time he always took my hand as we walked but it’s cold today and our gloves are thin and we rarely walk together anymore

this is an attempt to get me walking for thirty minutes a day we return to the apartment and the chili smells cook as it bubbles away in the crock pot

a single serving will be low enough in carbs for me to eat without guilt or worry these days to eat is to worry no matter what it is for lunch we had bland vegetable meatballs that even seasame oil couldn’t save but breakfast was a soft

omelet he made full of flavourful veg and lean turkey we watched videos to learn how to make better omelets everybody says an omelette is simple but nothing seems to be simple anymore eggs don’t cook evenly with electric heat you have to stir them make big or small curds then let them be