famine

create a small stand-in
campfire around which to tell ghost stories

know someone.

be awoken from your cot by the silence of dry lightning
and the promise of wind- violent in the treetops,
bending the thinner branches painfully- shaking the leaves from hot-humid slumber
and then the sirens from the center of camp,
running like mad men as the rain falls and you figure out quick just how cold the water in the atmo is-
hit in the face. by a wet leaf as you come out into the dirt path.
wet canvass flaps slapping eachother hard as yoiu pass them.
rivers forming beside you
and around you
wrenching the soft soil from the earth,
tearing the sand from the road

huddled together in the mess hall, sitting on benches and lying on tables

outside striking the flagpole, and the building and the trees, losing power, losing radio. no more walkietalkies.


know some one.


does a flame cast a shadow
we know it throws shadows, sends shadows, tells shadows, brings a dancing life the the shadows of bodies around it
but the the flame it self- does it produce an imprint of darkness,
does the light bringer bring also, a shape made in the absence of light.

flames keep me company

will you

after the storm (after all, we all just stay the same)

when i saw the plastic
solar light on the fencepost, i knew i was flickering.

and if someone were to ask me how i feel
i would say that i am flickering.

meditation one: on the existence of interstellar overdrive

i'm barely holding on the the edge of reality as it stands
if i did that i'd probably suffer an instantaneous psychosomatic death

there's a hand with a string let lose from noosed around a finger
the string hangs on but it cant stay for long just noosed around a finger


i'm not sure that anything is true

right here in this moment, everything i have ever been, falls apart.

i dreamt i was talking to Jimi about Syd Barrett
and then i realized that i was from the future.
and then i realized that we are all from the future.
and we all know whats about to happen next. but we think we are the only ones

so we keep it a secret from each other
and play along




-
on the busride, an entire lifetimes worth of existence  the rain hitting the window and actively listening to the screech of rubber against highway. dissecting the beautiful low rumble of different hums. falling asleep in the carpet covered seat with my hat puled down over my eyes. waiting to reach destination. waiting to be halfway home,

tragedy of the eternal plane

if we two, be some form of immoral souls.
and we decided that we might stare
straight into eachother's eyes, unmoving for the fullness of an eon, face to face- literal as could be

you would know nothing of me,
and only more about yourself.
until there is nothing left in the whole world to know


this bothers me deeply.


but
hold me
anyways.

instructions and stage directions [is this romantic?] (i wrote a short play) [instant scene]

 gloomy girl. pretty.
 seated at low table
 someone comments. she replies.

 (look over
 take a few steps forward)
"i bet i can make you smile"

(looks up.)

"i bet you a kiss on the cheek, right here, right now, i can make you smile-
here slap me-"

"what!?"

"go ahead, slap me, right here in the face- right on the cheek."

"i'm not going to slap you!"

"why not? you're just gonna kiss it and make it better anyways."
(pause. raise eyebrows. crooked smile.)


(she smiles. tries to hide it with her hands. head down. giggling.)

(kiss her on the cheek quickly and purposefully. get up swiftly in an over dramatized acrobatic display. dart away.)

dangerous autumnal

.

its amazing what bodies can be

from one moment to the next






















.

blue blue atmosphere

there are soft little pieces of forever shoved into the corners of your teeth
on the granite slabs of mountainous look-outs
you sharpen long walking sticks from boughs of fragrant juniper.
and forget to pass the small berries to the birds that like them

its been a long time

wicking out the passion from moments that will out live us-

and turning around to face visions of reality.
and trying to understand the fine,
pulverized sand in the gentle fissures that spread out like veins.
across large boulders that support the weight of our bodies -
carefully outlining the places where silent embryos come apart.

dragging the backs of our fingernails across the green-grey stone with open palms to catch the stardust we
think tumbles out of the ether-

casting off all my anger.  as i watch the tiny
flecks of destiny caught in the tips of your eyelashes as they close-
and the greatest tragedy of all,

as the blue becomes blue.
this (and only this)-
no one to share the view

doppelgangers

by the side of the road
where burned out cigarette butts poison the earth from in between crevasses in the sidewalk,
i lay with my lover-
as she claws at my skin like nicotine,

leaving long red badges across my back. the

white picket fences rise out to meet us, shot up though the ground by nailguns,
piecing out partial blindness from the artificial sun-
i look into her eyes and contemplate her smile- thrusting her heavy breathing into my ears

she could claw at her own skin
 or tug on the soft flesh wrapped around the inside of her arm with her teeth to keep in the screams

eyes widen, then flutter shut as her head is thrust back exposing the vitality of her throat to my dangerous hunger


and
when we'll dance
i'll
spin you around like a prayer drum. through the touch of my fingers. gives you motion.
 releases your
personal mantras into the air like a promise
 revealing the beautiful to everyone


                        ---

there are no reflections or shadows
only silhouettes completed beneath themselves

the water is duplicity

(and completion)

orion's belt is gesturing towards venus
cinching his waistband tighter in preparation for roadside visions with all
the voyeurism of the heavens
watching us fall into new vices and toy with our compassion, playing with each others feelings
and

time gives us distance
which we take too freely
removing ourselves from ourselves
and the
people who care for us as casually as we love them

the streetlamps and floodlights disrupt the serenity of 2:36 am
the cars skitter by unrhythmically forgetting to

slow down for



 bystanders



you are so self inflicted

this is how we fall apart
this is how we become things we never meant to be