torn labels: January 2006

29 January 2006

th crooked river

you think it is romantic?-
driving north

so it goes…
we all want to be
sad

on th icy highway
there are no coy glances or soft fingers

it is where romeo and juliet died
crossing th crooked river
in a silver Jetta

on impact

            they were not speaking
            at th time

# posted by hardyf : 10:04 0 comments

28 January 2006

iny

tandoori
india in ny cold
cali fume blanc
in ny and in
ny th style of dogs

# posted by hardyf : 12:59 0 comments

saint Ice

# posted by hardyf : 12:43 0 comments

26 January 2006

lately (saint who?)

in th night I found
just that.

            a baby
            by my side

driving home
a breath
of frost

street lights whisper colours
for me to go

buenas noches
            th risk
            defines
            us

holding on to weather
small talk
is hope

ballet but
sometimes just driving
is fine

and buenas noches
            tiny
            dreams

( on th couch
i was harassed by everyone that passed me by
in my sleep

waking up was like
a dream )

# posted by hardyf : 10:25 1 comments

22 January 2006

strung
voice
colour

# posted by hardyf : 15:32 0 comments

see here now new year

good flame now
            start

blacker
colder
oh ice
            loves ice
                       3 a.m.
                       roads white

pine pass baby
is shambles

sorry abt

            th whale
            in yr martini

sorry abt th dent [in sorry now]

~ th fort ( face

solar punch
soul kicks skin

, satellite curses ,
fire th singer
of no sound

tunnel
stars / tilt
funnel fuck

fine
found me slipping
into sleep       on a  strange couch

            some guy
            see here
            this year
            we will

norther
cheap and sexy
make it even better
w/ absence

through central mountains
voice strung
and light

and smaller
love cuts that travel
back and forth
fine

# posted by hardyf : 15:10 3 comments

18 January 2006

th winter birds are drunk

# posted by hardyf : 15:52 1 comments

harps dream now

i sang
when you left
to no one

b/c a parking lot can be a stormy sea

and when you left
i yelled so no one could hear

and when i wondered
th clouds moved in front of th stars
and you drove away

i thot of my drive north

in 15th avenue solitude

and never again and
maybe you promised me
a virgin

and of last i know one night

and you wondered
why i brought my keys
            it was b/c i hoped
            you made it home safe
            and forever

and found kms in yr heart
for my tracks in th snow

# posted by hardyf : 03:40 1 comments

16 January 2006

bella random [eve or machina]

# posted by hardyf : 23:10 1 comments

but (to love an old man)

.whiskey cup
come face

something breaks th fear
and a smile breaks

but a frown breaks th smile

but gently she pushes it back up
w/ indifference

# posted by hardyf : 23:05 0 comments

one xmas missed (invo

# posted by hardyf : 23:01 0 comments

we are th young liars

there are a million bubbles
in a glass of beer

this Napoleonic glass of beer

survive is th most important word
around here
and i think maybe

we all know that there’ll be no flood -
except maybe
in a song
on a sidewalk
played by broken fingers

we are th
young liars
young liars
young liars

( one
didnt move
and th'other
just stayed still )

# posted by hardyf : 22:57 0 comments

ripe rxn

[ by leaving
every smile I left
a still life ]

# posted by hardyf : 22:54 0 comments

brakeman

running towards th glowing bud
of a cigarette sucked
and flying through th'air

flicked by th brakeman
on a passing train
as it descends a further bend
my shadow continues piling
coals on a dim dream drag from th'ambivalent
starlit snowscape
next to th tracks…

# posted by hardyf : 21:56 0 comments

13 January 2006

lumber in / sawdust out...

# posted by hardyf : 13:04 0 comments

08 January 2006

you have your father's hands, they said,
and your mother's sentimentality

which always made for a good fight

# posted by hardyf : 16:10 3 comments

black travel

it was jesus man
and th footstep girl;
black dog
and aristocrat myth.

promise of rivers
and I see him angels;
him angels,
screen doors,
cadillacs, and
houses on rivers.

hell yah–
smoking
hot black tar to nowhere.

you are th new chain
of air,
full of down and people
just left
old judgments in tight sweaters.

hell yah travel –
in black arrest
eyes workin’ so hard
to close in on if
only one sentence

waiting and
like jesus drank
me & th drink
pills wasted
slowly

# posted by hardyf : 10:58 0 comments

05 January 2006

> ?

i am in yr head
like a bone

like a crashing plane     a  stingwing
                                                                    that cuts on th skinsong

i exploded before you
had th chance to adjust        , sorry

gotta love
how I treat you
and then wonder

# posted by hardyf : 12:45 0 comments

04 January 2006

                                   th railyard ( log chains

# posted by hardyf : 10:42 0 comments

02 January 2006

carnations / carcinogens

burnt bad
but I feel th same on th inside

        diplomats of wheeze
        silent
        savages of capillary
        sponsors
        for my lung sport

rising blues
     and reds -

  du valen tine
  called me a player

  chez moi noir
  [ a small time

         body house ]

you only ever wanted me
for revenge

# posted by hardyf : 21:35 0 comments

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