"If you've ever seen a one-trick pony, then you've seen me." http://bloodghostratio.blogspot.com/2012/08/the-wrestler.html
"And the angel of winter won't remember your name." http://bloodghostratio.blogspot.com/2012/08/hamlet-out-to-sea.html
Isn't any stalker good enough for you? http://bloodghostratio.blogspot.com/2012/07/be-still.html
kay:
Nope.
If nobody cares, how would you know?
Always the strangest class of casualty all of the sudden upon us.
kay:
o.O
Just the usual sort of empty. Like a Murakami character mentioned by David Mitchell.
kay:
You are very correct about the usage of ganked. 
I just like how bad it sounded. ha ha.
Hope you are well love.
I just like how bad it sounded. ha ha.Hope you are well love.
Sometimes it's like a song.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
viking:
good gosh your poems are amazing.
kay:
You do speak the truth.
The blog, such as it is, will continue to post on its home page at http://bloodghostratio.blogspot.com/ -- as for this site: meh.
context
They could try to find me, if they had a reason. They could try to find me, if they had the nerve. Look all they want, it wouldn't matter. Look right at me, I'll still be gone. The trick is to stand on the seams of your shadow. The trick is to leave nothing they would want behind.
I am always out of sorts....
Read More
They could try to find me, if they had a reason. They could try to find me, if they had the nerve. Look all they want, it wouldn't matter. Look right at me, I'll still be gone. The trick is to stand on the seams of your shadow. The trick is to leave nothing they would want behind.
I am always out of sorts....
Read More
ambition
The day breaks hot and thoughtful, you wake with the birds and the dog. You begin again because all the dreams have left you. You begin again because any other plan is lost. The dull footwork of repetition. The plodding march of every single day. The heat will not relent, the day already sacrificed to the flies and the dust. A breeze slips by,...
Read More
The day breaks hot and thoughtful, you wake with the birds and the dog. You begin again because all the dreams have left you. You begin again because any other plan is lost. The dull footwork of repetition. The plodding march of every single day. The heat will not relent, the day already sacrificed to the flies and the dust. A breeze slips by,...
Read More
the incidentals
The night pretends to fall and I pretend to notice. It is enough of a plan for the incedentals. It is enough of a map for holding still. The light as its leaving, the heat as it lingers yet. I write one thing and then another. It seems a listing with each veer and lean. It seems like sayings once you settle on...
Read More
The night pretends to fall and I pretend to notice. It is enough of a plan for the incedentals. It is enough of a map for holding still. The light as its leaving, the heat as it lingers yet. I write one thing and then another. It seems a listing with each veer and lean. It seems like sayings once you settle on...
Read More
aura
There is ruin stamped into the day. Even my thoughts draw flies. The hot coffee sits, cooling in the cup. Each notion sprawls like morning shadows, light and long and losing all the time. The drift away from meaning as the words all take their moods. A bumble bee buffets the wall beside my head. Language another color in the spectrum. The geometry of...
Read More
There is ruin stamped into the day. Even my thoughts draw flies. The hot coffee sits, cooling in the cup. Each notion sprawls like morning shadows, light and long and losing all the time. The drift away from meaning as the words all take their moods. A bumble bee buffets the wall beside my head. Language another color in the spectrum. The geometry of...
Read More