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missing dot.
nights like this i remember how the skin of her cheek felt like tissue gone through the wash or the petal of some unnamed flower you might happen upon walking in an otherwise forgettable wood on your way to someplace else you’d rather be. in the great big bathroom in the great big house where…
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on believing that a funk has been defeated
driving down the road reading shit poetry and accidentally singing a few off-key notes for the first time ever in front of him i knew that life was good and the next day one blink, one word that wasn’t said one caught breath sent me face-first under the covers, sent me into the dark, silent…
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blind.
you, when looking up at your great blue sky universe full of gifts- patriarch of all of us staring back in disbelief- spirits out there, guiding you- muscle-bared, red-burnt skin steering you, malicious into the path of wrong you, when looking up find grace in things that are not there and absolution by simple virtue…
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more meandering; 81912
russian spiced tea with a splash of milk and too much sugar, rickie lee is tinny through the speakers here, but i am too lazy to move six inches and put a record on. i wish it was raining (it just started raining as i typed that- oddly enough) babes tucked into cozy beds and…
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marginally.
here, with adjectives neatly stacked like hierarchal pawns eyes blurred, caffeine burning like the things i used to do (i’m older now and don’t get high on life or anything) i want to walk outside and see the stars to taste them, though to climb the air that reeks of disappointment thick and fetid coddled,…
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construct
today was longer than the night before (when, restless he woke me to trade places with him: “my head is too full of things,” he said. “i need to read for a while.”) i don’t remember the resituating of ourselves- if that’s even a word- the crawling over or under, legs suddenly twenty feet long…
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dumb
it’s been a while since i’ve spoken, really. brief phrases uttered without feeling to the people walking through the great glass doors looking to me for guidance about things that i’ll forget in twenty seconds- you need me now without you i would starve there is a symbiotic contempt that keeps both parties smiling, fake…
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The First Big Thing: Object Permanence.
It’s finally done. I won’t pretend you’ve been waiting forever for it, or that I worked forever on it, but you might like to read it anyway. It’s available directly from the publisher now, and in a few days, if you can wait that long [look at my ego, all puffed up… it’s all an…
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arthropod love song
An oldie that’s going in the new book, which is coming along nicely… almost all compiled, I think. arthropod love song you, by virtue of proximity to the dark and the flames that we tasted charred sugar on slow languid tongue won something else worm-silk, spider-silk sneaky arachnids we hid in the cracks of the…
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April Fox 