personal journal with rambling vents and brain scribbles




tremendous quiet perplexities rage

as the moon wept, it gave gravity a shape. this was the moon and its cosmic sorrow.

chopped up liver, minced meat pie, i liked it when, you were a lie

you sweat whisky while rubbing dirt on my wrists. for you. flashes amongst fists. come let me strangle you with this stamp. belted neck. quick trains. or is my timing just good today? when will it stop being about me? when has it ever been about me?

up the lot on pecan pie, turn it over & my my my! table top, sugar crumb, jones road blues. put a gun to my face then push me down the stairs!

the taxi is listening to the dispatch. directional conscious. "i am on my way" she said. quarter past since. as i wait to hear the radio. the size is perfect. i do what i bid it. cobblestone conscience. i found the white place. "i've seen this before. i feel it" i said aloud. i thought nobody listened, but lo, a deer found. 


the manuscript with my mouth sewn shut

batting eyes, crashing ties, something never works with you. borking bork, fix with a fork. i'll never walk around with you. times the flashes, curtain sashes. tomorrow never looked so good. try, try, run away. finger lickin' attitude. creasing a fire, concurrent tires. fender bender that went with her. swing swing, tragedy. fighting through this, laugh with me.

where this goes, have a meal, familial resonance, please have a sound.

thinking spaces. i've found it here. there it is again! must not soley peer through the windows, but insides are what i've been longing for.

the lion with the mouth full of cottonballs. lightening storms weigh a ton. it has been awake. what have you done, what have you done, eating plums one by one. for nearly a year.

you give me onion eyes & an obese heart

for what was hung at the neck until pronounced dead, it was in better shape than i could have ever conjoured. it sure hit me as deep as a shakespearean gash wound.

burnt wrist, pink skin, thin & swelling swelling. this fog is for welding, on this bridge i'll go gelding. fluidity is written on your shins. sloppy loppy, noses jaloppy. this tunnel is my cushion.

constellated sky, inverted, sleeping bag, i cocoon. a rhythm, a respiratory exchange. coupled wells. rain.

very scary ordinary

maelstorm hail, i've never heard such winds, whipping & lashing, hips & ashes felt so thin. chiming ponds, glacial swans, foundries in these boulder flakes. minus time, anomaly rhymes, epitaphs on my led face. wandering cemetery, i'm sick of these foot steps. silence silence take these reigns.