30 July 2005
24 July 2005
pre
as a student wrote half a million words
naked / full metal / first-ratelived in arcs felt generally awful could have been :: to a first wifehanging out in......
empty subways
to capture th human rhythm
meaningless fucks
to capture th human rhythm
th exact moment is debatable
when i was sorry , lonely
la la
nguage still considers itself very sweet / very sorry
first steps shook into a walk , sorry , i was lonely -
start again at home
port of hamburg
be of terroir
surround th apple for bites
red & delicious
above th bones
beautiful wife
be of terroir
doubt not th storm
and be of terroir
surround th apple for bites
red & delicious
above th bones
beautiful wife
be of terroir
silver rings- oh, th sea
- came up to meet me
- came up to meet me
whore in th window
of a beautiful ship
a tide of sleeping men
doubt not th storm
and be of terroir
23 July 2005
bad fall
we must lift fire from th secret case
and send th pigeons to another place
like in th cold autumn pink of Montreal
where down a child’s slide our love did fall
no one took time to divide th you from me
and nightly from the foot of this apartment I see
two shadows haunting a grainy nightshade
where the cost of a warm memory
is a memory paid
and send th pigeons to another place
like in th cold autumn pink of Montreal
where down a child’s slide our love did fall
no one took time to divide th you from me
and nightly from the foot of this apartment I see
two shadows haunting a grainy nightshade
where the cost of a warm memory
is a memory paid
22 July 2005
th forest floor (regrowth)
on your chest I eat th sky ;
oil dribbles down my chin
and into th sun
you said give up th drink
and let me have some
th corkscrew winds merlot through th smoldering
seedlings of white pines
where th glaciers retreat our fine roots
of trace touch invade ; inside
move very little for years and
open our petals in light
a fern unfolds near th forest floor
/ antlers out of early summer softness
form for autumn battle
in th dense shade of the canopy
w/o false light
lay back and i ll hunt / the depth of the soil
is provided and you ;
th rodents will b our servants
& take care of us to the bones
(regrowth in clear eyes
w/ distance
th volume of the city dies)
oil dribbles down my chin
and into th sun
you said give up th drink
and let me have some
th corkscrew winds merlot through th smoldering
seedlings of white pines
where th glaciers retreat our fine roots
of trace touch invade ; inside
move very little for years and
open our petals in light
a fern unfolds near th forest floor
/ antlers out of early summer softness
form for autumn battle
in th dense shade of the canopy
w/o false light
lay back and i ll hunt / the depth of the soil
is provided and you ;
th rodents will b our servants
& take care of us to the bones
(regrowth in clear eyes
w/ distance
th volume of the city dies)
20 July 2005
17 July 2005
девочка
send a thousand russkyas
from a hundred villages
and a Nikon D70
turn up their heads and let flee
onto th empty fields
into 1/1000th of a shutter
i look around
th human disco is in my head
where natural light is adequate
history has red-eye as of dawn
heavier than i dreamt
walking onto th empty dancefloor
out of the darkroom
into speedlights & blind thrown profiles
( it's all going on in me
so you know
a perpetual state of internal confession
all over and over in a single
down th road of stones
hills of russian words are blown
deeper & deeper into th evening villages
of sweet hay & heavy air
passing by my strange language
caught in a ripe young jaw
looking for a change
was once taking pictures
w/ her in a barn ,
th field danced on in complete darkness
to th clang of distant cowbells
under-exposed beneath a dirty blonde moon ,
trees gave th impression of clawing
deep scratches in closed centuries
th walls of th barn are charcoal now
rubbed over and over by th winds of hand ; my has since
traced her blackening edges ; each eye w/o a lens ;
3 images per second
on some empty floor
the clock takes of it's dress
and poses
from a hundred villages
and a Nikon D70
turn up their heads and let flee
onto th empty fields
into 1/1000th of a shutter
i look around
th human disco is in my head
where natural light is adequate
history has red-eye as of dawn
heavier than i dreamt
walking onto th empty dancefloor
out of the darkroom
into speedlights & blind thrown profiles
( it's all going on in me
so you know
a perpetual state of internal confession
all over and over in a single
down th road of stones
hills of russian words are blown
deeper & deeper into th evening villages
of sweet hay & heavy air
passing by my strange language
caught in a ripe young jaw
looking for a change
was once taking pictures
w/ her in a barn ,
th field danced on in complete darkness
to th clang of distant cowbells
under-exposed beneath a dirty blonde moon ,
trees gave th impression of clawing
deep scratches in closed centuries
th walls of th barn are charcoal now
rubbed over and over by th winds of hand ; my has since
traced her blackening edges ; each eye w/o a lens ;
3 images per second
on some empty floor
the clock takes of it's dress
and poses
to dollar highballs
on the way to th candles
looking for a ring sparkle against th tanqueray
each time her reach goes
far into th dull shapes of uncut diamonds
mountains of skin and small town attitude
get down to so many more gin
and speak up if your friends were here
so many more
and speak up alone
get up stand up on the wooden bar
high hips bucking one drink at a time
she shouts :: ' i'm actually quite boring '
everyone smiles & shrieks
for a second
split / becomes laughs
later is indefinitely out on th sidewalk
w/ th crystallized widows hung in streetlamps
come over / might as well
gotta go by
to get home
looking for a ring sparkle against th tanqueray
each time her reach goes
far into th dull shapes of uncut diamonds
mountains of skin and small town attitude
get down to so many more gin
and speak up if your friends were here
so many more
and speak up alone
get up stand up on the wooden bar
high hips bucking one drink at a time
she shouts :: ' i'm actually quite boring '
everyone smiles & shrieks
for a second
split / becomes laughs
later is indefinitely out on th sidewalk
w/ th crystallized widows hung in streetlamps
come over / might as well
gotta go by
to get home
th gathering
said man
give me th street
3 meters away
and done gettin older
eating th night right out of th other's
give me th street
3 meters away
and done gettin older
eating th night right out of th other's
