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for too long we go on to go on eating to eat sleeping to sleep until we have gone to be eaten for we sleep too long * i wrote this out of hand in the heart from the head to the human who has the hassle and the harm of the holes that hold … Continue reading
the following are ums and awes, scratches and scribbles * how good it would be to know more is a thought i know less about because i only know bad * she left so much for so much * will you push or pull me towards you when i wait here aligned, centered and bored
i am summer in the grass the movement of a dead body the anything anyone? who wants you and i tried and true and left only for me and you to discover in the winter on the trees and the autumn in the colours and that body there – mine – that is still and lonely like … Continue reading
like a giant who uses clouds for tissues i am looking for isolation but even the sky stares back * the wood frame dreams of being a tree but it’s forgetting because people are saying how good it looks with that painting of red which it never wanted to be and couldn’t tell a redwood … Continue reading
poetry is just drunk chunks of undigested thoughts pretending to be a meal that must be suckled from the floor for feeling * poetry is unpoetic far too often and often too far from poets who try to say all that’s been said by saying very little for that bit is how much has mattered … Continue reading
This is the first form of real, purposeful action I’ve finagled in a while. I could’ve thought before I did it, I think. * It is only a thought, But if you think That it is too much To think About thinking Then you have not thought Enough About thinking Enough To think That thinking Enough … Continue reading
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