Friday, February 29, 2008


the sun looks like a daughter
tugging on the back of her mother’s black skirt. one hand
holding tight, the other stretched out like the whole
world could end if she doesn’t get picked up and held.

I spend the morning walking towards the sunrise
as a way to digest the week and more
than anything it’s the calm I morn. and find it unsettling as
the darkness who clings to the greedy half-light of dawn.

I’ve always had this notion that I could fix my life
by over thinking it, that my mind could somehow
rationalize all the things that I’ve done wrong.

it’s one of those days in mid-january
where dead Christmas trees garnish the sidewalks, the
germen shepherd next door only stops when I start
barking back. the coffee shop on the corner percolates
patrons in and out on their way to meet mediocre people
in incredibly important places.

the year’s hottest fashions start to go on sale. and soon
you’ll see that pair of jeans marked down to forty-three
from one hundred and eighty-six.

you’ll shake your head and bite your lip
having bought it...but will do the same thing next year knowing
a moment is the only place to live. because

by that time you’ll forgotten the foresight that's important
for life and love and shopping. the sun will have finally
risen and a new day means a brand new chance

to fuck things all up again.

Friday, February 22, 2008

...when someone 'seems intriguing' should read their blog. because after that, it could go either way. i do find you cute though....and intriguing as well...and well, "cute" and "intriguing" can't be too bad a combo. i hope you continue through the long, drawn out, and sometime creepy archives though...they're worth it.

Wednesday, February 06, 2008


it's the purple dusk of summer
that's kept me around this long. the
phosphorescent warmth dripping down
one side of the inside of my skull and the sun
refusing to go to bed early. it's the scent
of freshly cut grass that's got me sticking
my head out the window of a moving car at night. the
sight of a thousand fireflies blurring in a field
while i'm speeding by. and the desire to get out
before slowing down. to tilt my head at the stars
who scatter like a giant monochromatic jackson pollack
across the sky. it's the being alone that keeps me warm
at night, as if the winter were kind enough to take pity.
self aware enough to wear my own faults like a blanket.
I don’t think that it’s too much to ask, to grab a hold
of the world with both hands, turn it upside down and squeeze
every last drop of life into my dry upturned mouth. to quench
this hidden thirst, as if all things boiled down to two simple
and very clear choices and i couldn't possibly exist
without making one: either say farewell to this tiny ball of dirt,
or fall madly in love with it forever.