revoked pharmaceutical albatross licence
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
i faintly sense frantic covert coreographies, flailing about
while i sleep.
the dilligence-- busy worker bees fashion sticky, prosthetic helmets...
they keep my insecurities from floating into the twinkling ether.
i can choose to wear it, believe it,
or rip the helmet from my skull,
still knowing that a replacement is coming...
...while i sleep.
i'm starving and your love is a restaurant
i knew no color except the one captured in your eyes,
knew no air until your breath stirred upon my neck,
i knew no sound until i heard your voice...
i enjoyed being us more than i like being me.
anecdotal aftermath
Sunday, May 29, 2005
i'm just asking you to be careful--
the spiders of this world,
they spin low hanging webs for decumbent traveling insects...
insects like yourself...
guess you should of gotten behind me earlier.
swatting barbells with butterflies
Friday, May 27, 2005
willing prisoners watching their animated cells,
they use their rusty canopener propaganda.
popping the top,pouring out individual free will,
pouring in the color, the size, the shape, the image they (we?) want...
need?
our retinas like sponges,
the stirring red liquid seeps and crawls to the top
our eyeballs float and bob in unison--
thirst? saturation?
either way, it's safer here in the pack...
conformity.
it is inevitable, like age, you know...
[i am sure i would hear a soothing hum in the static between stations]
salamander coastal retreat plan
Thursday, May 26, 2005
feeling the sprinkling of sand on my cheek,
i awake to the sound of muffled voices--
to the crisp sound of sand grinding underneath comfortable shoes.
my ear gently picks up the inaudible melody of a song i've heard before...
background noise bouncing, laboring off the black felt of a speaker.
raising the floorboard to inspect, i see figures...
drinking quicksand, laughing at the portrait of a foolish tide.
the anchor kisses,
then scrapes, the sea floor.
i wonder if the evacuation procedures are based on tenure...
where does this leave me?
green circuit mafia
no longer are there gold brick paved paths,
only those paved with blood, sand and oil...
i climb the stairs made of broken backs
to look through the bullethole viewfinder
in the door made of patriotic striped suffocating cloth..
it reveals only yellow toothed grins
birthed in this secret darkened room.
i fear for my life,
i am american.
we eat complacency because the fruits of action and freedom are hard to pick...
the dialect of the corduroy informant
love is the song i can't remember the melody to until i hear it calling me again.
rattle my teeth, cut to the bone, let another seed be sewn.
new ship, same old sail.
dust particle boxstep
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
the engine runs in place, practicing not preaching, a useless machine without its wheeled shell.
lifetimes ended in fire, better left holding the flame than holding the bag.
sandbox regiment compliance
Life preservers filled with concrete, I make my destiny known here and now.
I lie in a bed of disbelief, it's a bed I've come to make so well.
comply or deny?
5/24
drawing the line between your reality and mine...
I leave myself out on a limb hoping that your reach yields a hand for my hand and not a saw for the limb.
Your words explosive, I'm always falling on every grenade you mouthe.
5/23
