reypulque

The dusk arrives in the usual vestments, the service quick, and the congregation either absent or unmoved. The sky is swaddled in the color of storms, the reaching sun and the huddled clouds. The wind slides a riot through leaf and limb, the trees all swaying along with the chorus, the cold a choir rising from the dirt and weeds. Eyes like spring and eyes...
Read More

This might as well begin right here, the chill in the air, the sea on your knees. The way the sand below you sinks with every step. The way the shadows cast by the heaviest clouds press against you shoulders and your sight. You may as well be stripped bare, for the liberties you're treated to by the atmosphere. All across this continent we reach...
Read More

I trample down that brambled path, I am ridden out on rails, faith and feathers, words and tar. My gait is just an empty scuffle, the kata of worn joints and sore feet. I wind along the long stubborn stair well, I clamber up and down. I find my way amid the thorns and briar, the idle knots that living gives again and again. The...
Read More

I watch my step around these words with the sun dimming down out here. There's no sense in falling in further than you want. The clutter of sticks and stones waiting to bring this abrupt dance straight to skin and bones. The chill tooth of winter raked along each fingertip. Tomorrow and tomorrow, the path is dark and hungry. You say what you want, wish...
Read More

The dust settles and you know that there is nothing but this legacy of want and ache finally folding to a close. The turn of phrase at long last buried in the muddled history of this life long catch and release. The urgent journals and the breathless letters lost and forgotten, the statues on the altar huddled in their mysteries, their names and reasons all...
Read More

The spider in my mind waits, silently keeping time, weaving its way towards the fleeting words. Each capture a closing of questions, the exacting edge of appetite. Each notion a new enclosure, each culture bordered between certainties, the sticky silk of just like this drawing down the world. It weaves and gathers, aligning every participating star. Scheming towards a hunger so vast it is a...
Read More

The day is gone, that's the sum of it. The day has left and there is nothing to be done. I just hang out at the edge of the shadow, listen for some singing of the precipice. I just think of you in graphic detail, moving slowly through the breathless corners of my desires. I think of you when the distance feels the worst. I...
Read More

Are there ashes in my beard, are there embers still with-in my eyes? The words trail off like the twilight horizon, first there's sun, then so many long lost stars. There are never enough to cover the spread, little left to go around. The mind settles on its earthly mirror, chance always seen as destiny in the histories of the survived. The prophecies only stir...
Read More

I come calling wrapped in shadows. I come calling tangled in shaved light. Staring at your open window, or out the window just following the moon. Wherever the mood might find you. Whenever the planets might align. Whether it is the first seen star to affix your wishes, or that latest one to fall to take your wager. Whether the words we find will fill...
Read More

The light hesitates, the skins pause, slick with the seethe of shadows in that exhausted moment, a single breath and then all the baggage of this shine. The sky is tossed and tumbled, clotted with wispy clouds and gray paint, the sun so close to kissing the rim of this spilled horizon. I go swaddled in my usual rags and attachments, old aches and lost...
Read More

You go down to the crossroads just like everybody says, waiting for a stranger, looking for a sign. All there is is that much more traffic, passing fancies and marks on the road. Just the gravel and the grit, the wander and the weight. Your smile spackled with dust and soot, your words struggling to find their way free. Spit your rhymes and say your...
Read More

Maybe I am coming down with something, some seasonal affected ailment, some blood tight burden of a degraded middle age. All the smoke that I sent curling, all the names I have made to stain my breath, the cruel circle of simple maths. The quest always somehow half a fool, half the drag of half a heart. The path revealing every shade of lost, the...
Read More