In
writing on 08.20.09 at 11:50:45 AM
set it on fire
is the only advice
that i never received
but wish i had when
i was thirteen.
set it on fire,
is the only metaphor
that has less to
do with guidance
and more to with
living.
set it on fire,
are the only words
with which to see the
world through eyes
to know they are working.
In
writing on 08.20.09 at 11:48:31 AM
when i think of eyes
words can not do your’s justice
so i hope thoughts do.
In
writing on 08.20.09 at 11:47:51 AM
you don’t need to
worry of ruination
my strength fits two.
In
writing on 08.20.09 at 11:41:36 AM
we have read that dreams are under
the guide of a subconscious
wunderkind cinematographer
who leaves the movement of
dollies and the lensing to
the lesser hands of stored
proposition and delectable
narcissism.
we know that time is drawn up
in that tracing paper book
left in all of those rooms
we retreat to when the night is
colored with left over
crayons from the box of 64
left to melt in the sun.
we learn that each direction
is really just the next
dance recital of those ballerinas
that are only interested in
the clippity-clap their tap
shoes make as we dance into oblivion.
In
writing on 08.07.09 at 11:53:35 AM
Keane//Somewhere Only We Know
everyone knows that the
fourth song on first
sides is the most important
part of life’s mix.
just like the seventh song
on second sides hiss
a tape playing with
three chords of your heart.
everyone knows that
fourth songs are the ones
that make and break
what will be that forever fix.
just like headphones
plugged into that stereo
you hide under the bed
hold us when life starts.
In
writing on 08.07.09 at 10:45:24 AM
when silence sounds like
sleepless breathing surrounding
me i wake with you.
In
writing on 08.06.09 at 03:07:06 PM
Otis Redding//Love Man
there is a town just off the coast
of that country you and i
visit
in our dreams when
not
separate like the atoms
split mirroring each other’s turn.
there is a gown tusseled on the floor
of that cottage you and i
build
in our letters when
silence
seems to take a road
joined after diverging through ferns.
there is the pack bound and braided
to my back where you
can
place all of those weights
even
just to take a break from your
translucent butterfly winged verve.
In
writing on 08.06.09 at 09:54:50 AM
your huff and puff
is exactly the tone I want
to hear every night.
In
writing on 08.05.09 at 01:21:14 PM
i woke up feeling
you liked raising my head with
delicate poker hands.
In
writing on 08.04.09 at 10:41:38 AM
at three past midnight
i found a word that you lost
beneath cagey skin.
