the weight of days
The world is contained with a shrug and a shroud, the gray chill settling every bet. Fingers crack and flesh breaks, the work unexceptional and unending. It is that tune that plays on and on, even as you wince and curse. This pale aching moment, the weight of day upon day.
You drive four hundred miles just to fill out a...
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The world is contained with a shrug and a shroud, the gray chill settling every bet. Fingers crack and flesh breaks, the work unexceptional and unending. It is that tune that plays on and on, even as you wince and curse. This pale aching moment, the weight of day upon day.
You drive four hundred miles just to fill out a...
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crawling on
The sun was out, and it was warm for awhile, then it went away. Days are such temporary notions, here one moment then the next they have flown away, leaving the bare line and darkened sky. Everything is crawling on relentlessly, even the bits that stay the same. The bright light, the broken branch, the spider on my leg. The night is here,...
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The sun was out, and it was warm for awhile, then it went away. Days are such temporary notions, here one moment then the next they have flown away, leaving the bare line and darkened sky. Everything is crawling on relentlessly, even the bits that stay the same. The bright light, the broken branch, the spider on my leg. The night is here,...
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love as hunger
It is always where I am, this leaning towards the ghost, this empty urgency despite every evidence. Stuck in the stories of the weight of winter as it settles, that chill of drifting years suddenly gaining purchase in my skin. Trapped in the mistake that telling is ever anything given away. Earlier today I claimed I had the hands of a poet....
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It is always where I am, this leaning towards the ghost, this empty urgency despite every evidence. Stuck in the stories of the weight of winter as it settles, that chill of drifting years suddenly gaining purchase in my skin. Trapped in the mistake that telling is ever anything given away. Earlier today I claimed I had the hands of a poet....
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towards your wake
This last dispatch less painted gray than played so slowly all the colors are caught dreaming. This last season all breakers less the beach, the waves without any dry stone do dissolve, the weather without all this talk of rain. I closed the door and locked up all the gates. I slipped into that mood less like gloves and more like water...
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This last dispatch less painted gray than played so slowly all the colors are caught dreaming. This last season all breakers less the beach, the waves without any dry stone do dissolve, the weather without all this talk of rain. I closed the door and locked up all the gates. I slipped into that mood less like gloves and more like water...
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pitch
The storm breaks in cold gray phrases, long apologies and sudden good-byes. The only rain running out of the clotted gutters, drizzling down the eaves. The only wind the breath seeping out between tongue and tooth. Something like relief, audible for just only a moment. Something like a sigh, this evening of slight pressures. The rain seems like a stranger by the end of...
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The storm breaks in cold gray phrases, long apologies and sudden good-byes. The only rain running out of the clotted gutters, drizzling down the eaves. The only wind the breath seeping out between tongue and tooth. Something like relief, audible for just only a moment. Something like a sigh, this evening of slight pressures. The rain seems like a stranger by the end of...
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that crow loosed
The rain is strung tinsel as the headlights pass through it, the gutters ripple as traffic passes this test. The rain is lost pebbles casting circles as they sink. The rain is a tide of the sky just falling again and again, the dawn some bird seeking refuge on a wire. The day another sojourner, always passing through.
I listen to a...
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The rain is strung tinsel as the headlights pass through it, the gutters ripple as traffic passes this test. The rain is lost pebbles casting circles as they sink. The rain is a tide of the sky just falling again and again, the dawn some bird seeking refuge on a wire. The day another sojourner, always passing through.
I listen to a...
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theater
A life withdraws, leaving only words to struggle with. The rain exhales, a hush of continuity, the rush of blood always towards rust. The road spits and hisses, the flume of water pressed between it and the air as traffic passes. The light leaves and homes take on their portions of noise and glow. The flitting urgency of birds preparing for a cold wet...
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A life withdraws, leaving only words to struggle with. The rain exhales, a hush of continuity, the rush of blood always towards rust. The road spits and hisses, the flume of water pressed between it and the air as traffic passes. The light leaves and homes take on their portions of noise and glow. The flitting urgency of birds preparing for a cold wet...
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denial
A few hours with the rain trailing past, the front porch hit with ladles and mists, the cold trying to hide in my bones. In this ache and weather I know you return here, these fitful words, these blurted hesitations. My chilled fingers tangle with key and symbol, the least effort another oddity, old habits hollowed out and filled with new mistakes. All the...
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A few hours with the rain trailing past, the front porch hit with ladles and mists, the cold trying to hide in my bones. In this ache and weather I know you return here, these fitful words, these blurted hesitations. My chilled fingers tangle with key and symbol, the least effort another oddity, old habits hollowed out and filled with new mistakes. All the...
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sweep
The stars blur out of focus, a slow adjustment between distances. Clouds drift along the skin of the sky, the weather chained to the bottom of the ocean. These cold sunken hours. The deep forgiving oblivion of the restless tide. Sleep a haunting and a hush, a slipped beating of wings against the window, the shyness of a ghost always just outside the door....
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The stars blur out of focus, a slow adjustment between distances. Clouds drift along the skin of the sky, the weather chained to the bottom of the ocean. These cold sunken hours. The deep forgiving oblivion of the restless tide. Sleep a haunting and a hush, a slipped beating of wings against the window, the shyness of a ghost always just outside the door....
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pieces
A piece of the moon stuck to the fleeing of the day, clinging to that last clasp of blue before it all just gives way to black. So many wings, so many hopes bent on escape. These flocks that you would have thought had had the whole fall to settle, at this very late moment remembering the air. These birds that flow and stir,...
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A piece of the moon stuck to the fleeing of the day, clinging to that last clasp of blue before it all just gives way to black. So many wings, so many hopes bent on escape. These flocks that you would have thought had had the whole fall to settle, at this very late moment remembering the air. These birds that flow and stir,...
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the Jericho road
The truth arose with that music of absolute loss, that dissonant phrase that lays across the tracks of reason. That contrast of the harsh drowse of this painful fluorescence and that static shine falling on the wet white paint. There is that dreadful lamentation framed miniscule, the worm drowning on the pavement, that fly with one torn wing. There is that wakeful...
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The truth arose with that music of absolute loss, that dissonant phrase that lays across the tracks of reason. That contrast of the harsh drowse of this painful fluorescence and that static shine falling on the wet white paint. There is that dreadful lamentation framed miniscule, the worm drowning on the pavement, that fly with one torn wing. There is that wakeful...
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dwam:
Thank you ! These 3 years have been tremendous 
certainty
The crunch of leaves beneath my feet, the only rush of angel's wings I would ever need. This sky of dark cement. These stars of no more wishing. The nearer the distance, the further this flight. Sleepy enough to feel the wind rise with the sound of drunken kisses. Awake enough to feel the change of light as you leave.
Some other life and...
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The crunch of leaves beneath my feet, the only rush of angel's wings I would ever need. This sky of dark cement. These stars of no more wishing. The nearer the distance, the further this flight. Sleepy enough to feel the wind rise with the sound of drunken kisses. Awake enough to feel the change of light as you leave.
Some other life and...
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