Wednesday, November 12, 2008

scream stealing

privilege is a constant thought
those who have and those who have not
once they
the they
all else that slithers across the history books
and stalks parks and dirt roads

the they that grows like a rose on high
tree topped mounts

the other
what one is not
what one could never be

two
or three
or less and less
the infinity

what difference does it have from a dream
where you go to scream and it isnt there

the country bows its head into delicately arranged guillotines
and reaches around with withered hands
cramped with the work of creation
to pull its own rope

clunky things bowl down the farmlands

and splash in warm sands

things are getting better
thats what they say

but what has changed
and what will stay

there is something to be wanted
much to crave
understanding to deprave
clunk
clunk
clunk

where the headless roam
and can't find their way home

and hope

well

there is always that

Thursday, October 9, 2008

The man who writes about himself and his own time is the only man who writes about all people and all time.
- George Bernard Shaw

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Inspiration is wonderful when it happens, but the writer must develop an approach for the rest of the time... The wait is simply too long.

- Leonard Bernstein

deflecting the deadly
creating the regenerations
panting
the train ride
of redundancy

originality stalks you in the bathroom
that uncomfortable feeling that someone
and no one is watching
that knowledge
that what comes out your ass
is the most original part of you.

bad breath and b.o.
beautiful silent art
well not as silent as some



Thursday, August 7, 2008

long legs

a bloody nuisance
to wake from a real dream
he's married now
but in my dreams he belongs to no one
else
but
me

to have something of true beauty
destroy it
setting it free
can stand it coming back

i wonder what his child will look like
it would have had brown eyes and brown hair
i haven't seen her though

maybe if i do
the dreams will go away