Friday, November 30, 2007

three hundredth

Sitting in Autumn doing Christian-y stuff involving sheeps,cinammon sticks and red candles.Looking out the window at hammocks and fallen leaves.Women heaving and panting their lives away.Sunset being forgotten in the background.Empty bottles of sparkling burgundy don't match the kitchen tops.

He knows too much.
But I'm glad I still have the ability to write in a manner that is almost indecipherable.Makes me feel Da Vince-like.

And if I'm not careful,things will totally fuck themselves come December.I'm not going to mention names or situations,but I have a list under my bag of (hidden) candy of several possibilities.

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

marmalade fires

I was there
when shining ducks
and pink midgets
were thrown into the sea

I was there when your voice
said to me
'I like to watch the rise
and fall of your back,darling,
as you sleep on your stomach
with a towel on your head'

I was there
when the luxury of the gods
was handed down to man
who sold it off
to corporate.

I was there
when your beanie fell
as you sang a muddy hymn
into the beggar's ear.

I was there
when it became too hard
and too easy
for you to handle

I was there during it all.
I was there,I was there.

Friday, November 23, 2007

I cant decide what I love about fall the most.
watching leaves dance as they fall to the ground,finally free.
the way my skin grows twice its size.
or how we're drifting feathers in water going their seperate ways.


Monday, November 12, 2007

i listen to celtic music and imagine my father is the only kind of sound that equates to that kind of feeling.