The hours are running out, the hour’s getting long in the tooth, the way it always seems watching time just smile. The crowded atmosphere and the blue bias light, a cough that presumes too much, another object in motion trailing smoke and dust. The old songs play away on some gizmo, the heart another hard scrabble gadget, fuming away in some lonely room remembering when...
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I thought of the moon, and there it was, stuck halfway up a tree. A blink of an eye, a half a breath, and there goes the sky. It’s as easy as the thinking, it’s learning to watch what you see. Run amok or pay attention, it tends to average out. The pointer or the pointing, the lake or Li Po’s moon. There’s only so...
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What was the world while the wind swept through it? What were the obstacles removed to seed the path? The cold toothed zephyrs nibbling on the golden sun and the blue sky and the green dreams reaching, winter waiting where the weather gives out. The gutted hungers and rush of appetite always almost arriving, almost always about to go. The change we are and the...
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Spring blesses the bandwidth with resonant hues of greens and blues, wrangled from the sky and the hotshot sun, drawn from the earth like an expectant breath. Wings spun from shine and appetite paint the sun streaked atmosphere in feathers and flight, sparrows and finches and the innumerable invertebrates in swirls and dashes, patterns of lift and hunger left to add heft and blur to...
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We rock around the clock to find the prohibition fresh on the lips, neither pickle nor motor sickle be. We burn and fade and are by fate waylaid, both the algorithm and the instrument, the climb to the precipice and the rhetoric of the long talk down. Our rubric and our declamations as we drain and dwindle. All the possibilities missed and the kingdoms built...
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The sun rides the blue tide of sky from one end to the other, its radiance seeding greens and scathing down in droughts and plagues, taking its tithe in lore and language. All the reachings out there towards this unknowable fury, this fever singing fire in the pitch and freeze of spacetime. We ride the same skies, name the great fires and the distant stipplings,...
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It’s strange the things you find when you go looking. It’s odd what the season brings around. Spring has been beating around bud and bush, green reachings and the sun where it sticks. Now the wind blows and blows, a little chill for the windowsill, a little stirring about the stars. The limbs stretch and sway, the horned moon having its way, the hint of...
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The rain pours down and the hammer keeps beating on the anvil. The winds blows cold and the bellows continue to wheeze and puff. Smoke trickles up through the droplets, smoke drizzles out from between my lips. The cold stays on point, stealing the heat from my hands, coaxing the smoke on down the road. It’s the limits of the vehicle, it’s the motive in...
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The day gives in to the graces of the gray, green from the recent rain and awaiting the coming storm. The smoke reaches up and climbs the coils of burn and wind and offered breath, the fickle sky anchored to the engine planted firmly on the earth. The smoke strives and stalls, ambivalent to altar or entity, nodding at the offering as it goes to...
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Name us now by how our days go wasted. Call us by our collars, know us by the bridle and the bit. Toil away in the dirt, work your clean shirt racket like a champ, get tagged as essential so you can die in the harness dumber than the dumbest mule. It doesn’t matter if you’re docile and work like the devil. It doesn’t matter...
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