Monday, March 12, 2012

ukraine.

my heart is like a promise


much like anal sex
and finally fixing the
sink


on sundays it takes me to see
the ponies
and when doused with lighter fluid

evaporates with
not much residue
to prove it
existed.


my heart is not black, but more
of a
hue befitting a
lady
if ever a lady was


willing to be blinded and tied
down
and sometimes
it is beat
and stopped by a sound


when no other sounds can be as loud as it's screaming.

Sunday, February 19, 2012

san francisco never seemed so far away

i wake up at midnight
shaken by the leaching of dreams from
my mind and
a lack of whiskey in my bones
shivered by open windows and
cats screaming
while living in
a terrarium of recycled
photographs, love letters and
rational descent into madness

the bottles all emptied
and the record skipping on the bach
i'd forgotten
in the red light
of the vestibule

weaving down and out
like last minute trips to the coast because
it always sounds
warmer than where ever i happen to
be
when awoked, red eyed
and trembling
unable to feel the warmth of the
dawn on my face
and in all of a wonderment
as to how it is
i ever managed to stay
in this
desert for this long

a sarabande for insanity
whilst wishing
for cobbled streets and ports of
fortune
i weave down and then out
to pour a whiskey and raise my glass to
the west
where the sun will set
along with my wearied head come
morning.

Monday, February 13, 2012

it's only when i hear the trains...

..that i realize there's a soul behind these gaunt eyes.

Friday, December 23, 2011

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Sunday, September 4, 2011

dream the perfect wrong

run for days and when
you find where you are going
tell me and i'm there

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

and then and then. and then and some more

it cant be autumn quite yet
the skip in the seasons is too soon
too soon too soon
it's much too soon.


i'm giving up and calling it in
and appreciating the minors and all of their
inefficiencies.


their low notes
their
compromise in structure
their ability yo wake up an wander away from the field.



i am skipping autumn and moving
onto to warmer climes,
with cloudy skies
exercise in refutation and a lovely dream
whence which i recall may
way
back to every tuesday night



whether i'd like to or not
whether i chose the day
or remembrance
or whatever normal people
blink consolingly at when the sun rises
also!


if it happens when i am for
the slumber
please do ensure a toast
to
my graven sentiments
and all of their contents as the tan will fade
and sometimes
the forgettances cast a larger
understanding.