December 2009
10 posts
Shattered illusions. Those are the scars lining my skin, making my eyes twitch, not letting anyone come near me because I know that they are just another screamer in the night. The first shard we all experienced as children was discovering Santa Claus wasn’t real. Then comes a whole slew… a whole stew, a huge cauldron of shoes that led us the wrong way, the shoelace lies that you...
“Every person’s work, whether it be literature or music or pictures or anything else, is always a portrait of themself.”
- Samuel Butler
If the box opens too wide than all the fingers are caught in the drip, drip of syrup. Noone says it very often, do they? But they must think it because I can feel it underneath the vinyl surface, the countertop of chrome, the chalky lipstick the dog chewed and spat up on the front step. It’s all just a formula, one paradigm to break after another, the human body is stronger than we know, the...
Nothing is ever as it seems.....
You dissolve, but there is no you so be careful. not in this world of type we toil with between metal and graphite. Only the sheen can you eat, we won’t wash mouths, we won’t dry fingers, we can only delete the we and the you and put the veil of a somewhere over a screen lit blue, blue enough to reflect the blur of a shape, perhaps man or woman…who the hell knows and who the fuck...
The Fall
The one I love came quiet over the hills, through the scrub oak lit by silver wings of owls, he can sing them too, the same warble. I did not know and still cannot find the clever, one answer to the question looming, but love is not always cut clean, not always lined like a book shelf so you can pick through to the binder you like best, the words woven inky black, the pages crisp enough to read to...