Monday, July 25, 2011


between answers and reprieve, ill take reprieve any day, I am yet to encounter a truly satisfying answer, that did not have the lurking human hand behind, molding false and fearful, holding steady, until nemesis, a whiff of time, and a shower of sparks

my memory is divided between what happened, and what might have, both strands equally strong, I think my shortsight has something to do with it.

the night began alive, lighted and still, skyscrapers shortened by mist, one nightclub stabbed a roving light into the clouds, defiant against the steady rain

the day dawned long and lazy, the motion sensors yawning and unused. to brush off some lint from my soul, there was a brief monologue expounded by a dead guy, Arturo Vivante, on pieces of paper, soggy with misuse and age, his, mine.

the petunias are flourishing, they've changed color since last summer of course. they're still delightfully generic, and quiet, silence is getting so very important with each day

I did three things together, solid and liquid stuff, easily distinguishable from oxygen. and oh oh, I made a minor decision, with a helping hand, of course, thank you helping hand

soon more days will crowd on my skull, roll into one, clamoring at my conscience like shrill cicada, acrid and creepy and non-existent, but so loud, as if a continuous noise can miraculously produce form,

I have two minutes to pause and write, I have reprieve today


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