Wednesday, August 12, 2009

today's afternoon silence.

she left.
and so, we quiet it with drugs.
it was a steel tin, wrapped in brown paper. tied with gritty twine.
authentic to an underworld. smell and odor and aroma instant.
this was born into the earth - this was born unto the earth.
years of non-commitment. years of non-possibilities.
years of research, reading it out, analyzing it all, speculating it out.
dead texts, bloodless.

graded bungie cord safety. there is no overdose without the dose. the first, the pure, the virgin sweep of chemical or botanical lust swallowing you dead as a burnt wheat field. thick burnt vapor becomes your portrait. thinking through gestating murk. there is no flying without those wings.

Friday, August 07, 2009


and oh yeah, it made sense.
to the nerves the synapse and the touch
it made sense.
they never stopped you.
it made sense
and while she loved you it made sense.

broken vows.
an invalid inclusion.
you never seemed to make it stop
and your priority was clear to those who
weren't there.
it made sense.

it all made sense.

climb those stairs, it made sense
you's a dead man, yeah it made sense
bye bye bye bye bye bye bye
bye bye bye bye bye bye bye
it made sense.

and in illegibles at quiet writing desks
and in scrawls on the walls of those haunts
and in quiet walls of abodes
yeah that name it makes sense.

runes of eyes and archs of hands
perfect posture and perfect stature
yeah it made sense.
i believe in you
and i believe in us
i don't believe in me
but i believe in our running
i believe in our escape
and i believe in our demise
yeah it's this faith that brings me back
and it's this faith that keeps me down,

the dead to the speech of strangers that are