Sunday, March 10, 2024

Temporal anamoly

Has it been an entire season? You were my lighthouse, a burning sphere of prisms illuminating the shore after a dozen lifetimes of darkness, and I can begin to swim back. 

And then time changes too, to conspire against us.

Nothing new. Those ocean is vast, but every ocean has a shore. 

Friday, January 19, 2024

oh yeah

I used to write in this. When was that? Seems so long ago. 

I forget this world is frozen when I'm gone. I suppose one day I'll never come back. What will happen, I wonder. Better not blow up or something. I'd rather it didn't make a mess. 

It's Friday night and I'm not out partying. I'm usually not. I'm thinking of all the decluttering I'd like to do but probably won't. 

I probably will a little. It feels like it's time. 

Sunday, December 17, 2023

Ambient loop 9

Listening to dark jazz and artificial ambient rainstorm loops
Makes for bad poetry and confuses the hounds
melancholy reverb hides the hesitation of the next note
the rush to get to right now
until it's gone
Fake rainstorm was a real rainstorm once
someone remembers it
recorded it, trapped it in the now
stuck like all the rest of us
raindrops strike steel cables
Makes for bad poetry and confuses the hounds

Friday, December 15, 2023

foolish symmetry

All the things I want to tell you all the deleted words they must go somewhere
chasing a foolish symmetry 
consistency will come later

every language is at least two
whirring bus wheels
the hiss of brakes
fraying

sepia streetlights make us a zoetrope
sleeping in each other's arms
I sleep less deeply 
yet I awaken refreshed

Thursday, December 14, 2023

we only ever had the nights

warmer in the shadows
clouds are a bedspread
curling and uncurling in your hands
we only ever had the nights
the day so conquered
feathers in the breeze
rebar rusting in crumbling concrete
muffled laughter and a late lunch
nights are meant to be stolen

Tuesday, December 12, 2023

readings

I turn to you every night
my Book of Sand
lean close to feel your breath
to listen to the story of you
colder and warmer music lilting
while green-eyed cats knead the bedclothes 
birch-bark paper leaves 
strands of autumn red hair
bookmark pages I'll never see again
save the runes etched in my mind
in one of the thousand outcomes
where I'm found without you