diamonds flash in the darkness. lines penetrate nothing at all. through fields we see pretext. following a fox. land seems tender, but hollow inside. extracted cores are left bloody on the glass.
marked
diamonds flash in the darkness. lines penetrate nothing at all. through fields we see pretext. following a fox. land seems tender, but hollow inside. extracted cores are left bloody on the glass.
pages
has it really been all those years? like being sucked into a black hole. only we were unaware during the process. when we came out on the other side we were warped, like your records i left face-down on my flooooooor. eyes and smiles come inwards then fold to become others. at two points, one remembered.
clique cliche
In between the rinse, tinuous bins of tones. Don't be afraid. To be awake. After all is said, things left undone. Unorganization retreats. There was more, but it's gone. In an empty room in your basement, with fake wood paneling. What are we used for? Ceiling's too low. Could you find home in this home?
Warm Welcomes
Two thousand and eight. Titles tell all. Sold accounts from re-consumed inflation. You still ruin most of my days. Peering up through cellophane seals. Below above average.
Aaa
when you called, tiny white trees were growing from your face, and your cataracts were full, like moons. back then my hair was longer.
mined and body. ripples were.
please, please, please make me magic. we miss you.
"this night has only just begun."
mined and body. ripples were.
please, please, please make me magic. we miss you.
"this night has only just begun."
22, 23
Those walls were solid concrete, with no ventilation. "We will certainly perish here." But _____ ___ ___ _____ __ ________ and _________ ___ were __ ___ ____ _____.
We could die high.
You once cried because of some bad graphic design. You once cried... But there was no ventilation in there! Driving past an old cemetery to get our lunch. I'm breathing again these days.
aeiou
and once again, wilt again. out and in and end on end. press made sent for few rents. slanted.
5tt
Aokki Roads
Opening and closing the mouth repeatedly. Swallowing hard. Feel that bubble pop. A brand new TV with a Sony Playstation! Answers lead to more questions. Will this ever resolve itself? Click here for more info!
Plumes of grass
Archibald's hot breath caressed the back of her neck. Melting towards thanksgiving. Wallets of Turkey breast. Complete falseness of that statement. No actual effort put forth into things: Too lazy to be alive.
The world needs magic! Magic cannot die.
hung up on hooks. confess your sins. blood from a cats face... boo! rotating maps. a hobbit's hole. some imitator? flattening between two panes of glass; weighed down by legos. not sure about the side effects. two thirds through the first of three.
bluo boqpod ould
select from the sea of lines and rays. ongoing ever one way. ends and not ends. drifts of fallen hospitals, below the highway, on the river bank. sign posts read. water.
In and out. Without time.
Fleeting presses for pent up aggression. Realized that everything you knew was a farce. Patterns replace patterns. Over treetops, under parking garages.
i,i,i,i... o
an LCD screen displays numbers and symbols that we cannot comprehend. short shirts truncating "meaningful" experiences. recomplicating situations that were needlessly complicated to begin with. oh, what now, what now, what now? cosmic births. red lips shine through phantom forest creatures.
When will we always remember this?
more like them. you were the only one who waited for me. across the intersection i saw you standing there, with that look on your face. the good ol' days. the only new year's resolution ive ever had, was one i couldn't accomplish. in sleep, we are. never ending backlash.
into streetlights
land too barren to bare anything. and cars are flying. over material possessions of some bacteria.
an infinite, glowing void
reaches stretching beyond the contact lens. perfectly clear arc hive.
breathe. don't you love?
From the bottom of an elevator shaft.
skin peeling below a glass eye. prying for opposite sexes. wishes when best presented to former presidents. super brain. slowly descending, catching shrapnel with my mind-thumbs. the worlds largest dance party during the apocalypse.
our selves on magnetic tape
i sat on the lawn and watched dragonflies fly with my mother.
and i really couldnt tell you what i was trying to say last night. i was pretty much gone at that point. to be honest, i only vaguely remember us talking. sorry if it was something weird...
In the year 20015.
snipped harmless snippets from the corners of the world. shadows rebel after 9:00pm. a big false city. 7O. we thought you were someone else, but you are you.
you are you.
you are you.
and these things seem to follow me wherever i go. a purchase of 50 dollars or more. just try to have some fun.
8.14.09
this was a wing.
and this a leg.
an antenna.
a thorax.
we left our friend on the side of the road.
he wandered off into the woods.
refused to get back in the car.
so we left -
he dared us.
climbed out the windows
and did not waste a drop.
our heads were magnified until they lost all recognizable qualities. we spilled out of empty bottles onto empty lanes and for a second nothing smelled terrible.
at 90 miles per hour the fleas flew off us,
should've taken the pets.
laughed at the cops but still kept our heads inside with every new curve,
just in case;
no glory in getting caught.
and where were you, where were you?
restlessly condemning our activities,
not even aware of what they were,
knowing only that you would not approve.
look closer,
it's all divided evenly.
-twelve doors
... and we climed hills all night.
crawling around. worlds opened up and swallowed us whole. prosthetic vines hanging from cracks in the ceiling. brown, rusty water. seeing through walls. a halo of flies. bright lights, green grass. as you broke the surface of the voice, clouds rested on remembered skylines.
Autotune Toyota or Untitled Number Eight
filled with stolen stills of time. starved for attention. this one's not for you!
Last year; failed-fun fuckfest.
wits of sour salt and hearts of shit. trite as tracing wood grains in floor boards. triangular face singed the corners. "let's light it on fire!" hemming and hawing.
8.10.09
unfortunate fingers p-p-plied us for
in-in-information their
m-m-mucous membranes spilled over onto
our l-laps and we were
oh so g-g-g-gently drag-g-ged towards
.flecks that m-ight have
solved less than something insside
-twelve doors
A truth tree ran rank.
pretending fractals are fans of our sun. i often try, but god damn! i always overshoot. we used to bridge distances, back when distances were a factor for us. we forgot one last night. receiving unsolicited approvals from friends of friends. the cousin of an ex. brimming with wants.
Last night we were in my brain.
West from where we once fluttered fruitlessly. just out of reach. Before stone sets beset by roads that travel out from within. Nice in form, but without meaning. Were we all "around" when trying was pointful?
I thought so.
32-bit light waves, reflecting off freshly-paved daydreams.
those who weren't caught-up were left to run with no one. across vastnesses; gazes were set. while lingering feelings of geometry soaked us all like a blue screen of nostalgia. patterns grow. new depths fall before a million windows. without unwarning, questions were answered. actors and actresses, folded in two, with plans of prior engagements.
Were you were there, but you were.
for what? when we weren't made of 'outside those walls.' but after all, life isn't television. without the dull horizons that went on before those skies. dotted lines stretching towards infinity. no accessible entrances. wet floor, stone pillars, dull lamps, tall trees.
rendered unfitting for general purpose. out spurted a debacle of champagne blissery. reset beyond retaliation. spent up like moths in cold winds. walls inside of what we wanted before we ever got a chance to change.
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