-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
the fly she cried my sigh it died * i ride car side red tide i hide * my pet is pat in pot, fire pit * hands here mind there body where – found ere they wear
any good story is going to change when you read it again for you have changed for good from stories * there are too many people to write and it takes too many people to write; writing is never alone * writing is about not talking about how to write * writing is muting yourself … Continue reading
happiness may be impossible but we must risk it if we are to survive in the goodness of this world that is often bad and burning * the universe is forever but today, with you, is not and that’s as special as it can get for today is as close to forever as we’ll be … Continue reading
how is it that a subway filled with dogs provides joy and one with too many owners crowds the vehicle with dread * as a lazy mosquito sucking itself into a question of will it become an itchy bump or an itchier nothing we are all looking for relaxation that doesn’t lead to boredom or … Continue reading
The following isn’t very good, but that is the point. * what are my motivations to do anything besides for solidifying beyond my motivations and becoming something that no longer needs such things which may include myself on days when i do not sleep for there are things to do which may include myself on … Continue reading
like the sun that doesn’t drown in the dead blue sky i disappear in myself through forgetful age and the business of busyness where i miss the shower and move to sweat hoping to find something i lost somewhere i cannot recall but always am reminded of in the morning sludge of light that brings … Continue reading
there are mistakes moving up my nose from sniffing palms and perfumes that i try to blow wayward into the shower the usual germs and snot stuck together to drain and dry in someone else’s water if filtration goes awry but blood comes out instead thick then thin as though all of me is losing … Continue reading
leaves lost on electric lines that can be heard in the summer with the air condition and beams of sun that bake into the darkness but not tonight where they land on quiet orange and green and ketchup red stems limp like little feet of a man hanging or just a boy who used to walk around … Continue reading
angel, take this saw and split my hands from prayer and from my body so that you can wrap them around you like a necklace where you are cradled by me and when I rot in glimmer and sun and warmth you can have other smaller friends, who fed off me lived off me died … Continue reading
when I was little I thought I wanted to be big like my father who I looked up to because he was powerful and strong and handy with a belt against my back so that then when I was a giant who gorged I could show him what it meant to be little, but I … Continue reading
Mizpellt wurdz 