reypulque

I dont know why I watch the moon rise, suspended here from smoke and sparks, as it floats and glows through cypress and palm silhouettes. I dont know why I cleave to its slow gloating glory as it gathers itself in mists and bounty. I dont recognize that terrible tone that accompanies it, the blather of myth, the chatter of hunger. I dont know the...
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The last day dozes in the grave you made it, dug with small surrenders, with hidden sacrifice. The scent of loam, the sound of the shovel, the depths that you have yet to plunder: this is the wonder that bottom holds. This is how far there is yet to fall. A sunken sun, a broken heart, a dream with seams that pull apart. The charted...
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The way the rules are written, in blood and scent and flesh, we are drawn along intersecting lines, our hearts parabolas flung at mortal speeds with glacial arcs, the transom of meager moments the whole of our selves suspended. Attraction wanes as repulsion waxes, these seething satellite's ellipses tattooed in these smiles and snarls. Beauty weighs in, its staggering mass belayed by its whispered manifestation,...
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The world grows small and cold and dense. Eventually everyones story spills from our lips. The compass bucks and spins, pointing in affectation, never in direction. It is hard to tell the truth and not laugh. After all these years, it is next to impossible to break character.

A lipstick kiss, folded in a letter I should have kept. Creased and unlikely, an admission and...
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That burnt plastic taste ghosts the folded tongue, like kissing an electrical fire, like running the heater of my old Duster to keep it from overheating on some long ago summer of my former life. The dregs of hot black coffee ground cold, and I am scratching at my dry flesh with these cracked hands. Typing typos and sealing constellations as I go. Licking the...
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It isnt the fall so much as the grinding press of solidity that endures, snubbed out of motion like the butt of a cigarette, extinguished like a wishing star. No steak, no sizzle, no fog or snow or drizzle-- the set piece of sparkling constellations and visible breath. The feeling of wanting when all desire seems absurd. The ghost limb itchings of an amputated limb,...
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Hope leaves like heat leaves, diffuse, spectral, ever rising into the secret cant of sky and stars. Waiting only another aimless religion, imposed like a twelve-step deity, an articulated resignation to a lack of other options, another way of embracing deep and abiding flaw. Moving by rote from too hot to too cold, no baby bear equilibrium visible from this point in the spectrum, my...
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Ducks in a row, all our lives. Ducks in a row, all these trembling little victories, all these soft, breathy sounds of defeat. All the bottles lined up in the mind, the check list of incompletion awaiting the pen stroke, the bright ring the bell to birth it. The lush multiplicity of existence, to be broken, to be beaten, to be without recourse, and yet...
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That blue that somehow speaks of haunted bones blinds me, the split blood drunk seething inside my skull flaying my last slip of sanity away. It is the native tongue of each day, graceless and remorseful, lonesome, hungry, and always undone. The belayed days of labor, the waiting for systemic cogs and gears to do their turn, the awful creeping sense that this trap will...
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The fever doesnt fit me and the headache takes my heart. Through the broken branches a warm wind takes scrapings of a moon. The pavement takes each print, tracing the skies, the pallid winter hexagon, the crushed ashtray hush of the horizon. I feel the needle more in its absence, I feel tomorrow more deeply having been betrayed by yesterday. I lied to the tracings,...
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In that vast expanse between the real and the perceived, the stretch of black bottomless water stills, and that tireless dancer whirls and whirls, burning the surface in a blur of flame and steam. Eyes open, and, alive after all, you smooth the blood from your scalp, staring at your strangers hands. Something shifted beneath the firmament, something changed in the springs and gears. One...
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