Tuesday, May 21, 2013
It all comes down to what we know. The information we harbor inside ourselves. The lights that will have a go, twitching on and off to signal that we are defying what we know. Our external sensors become noticeably irritated and we boil right to the tips of our eyelashes because of what we know. We've known all along and we've made a note of it in our hard drives but then other beings harboring the exact same information decide to work differently with it and decide we should too. But we don't. Because we can't and we won't. So everything we know becomes twisted with this absurd energy trying to will it to change. It all comes down to what we know. And I definitely know the racks of information pertaining to you is absolute rubbish, just like the pit that resigns where your heart should be. You're a parasite to yourself and to present company... always trying to rewrite the information we know.
But your cheap tricks and foul inclinations won't dazzle us.
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
food, i don't even eat this stuff but i still stock
up my freezer hoping you'll come through, and
when you do you better know i'll be giving you the best goddamn microwaved feast you ever laid your eyes on, and while you're devouring pastas and mashed potatoes i will tell you of all the things i've gathered for you.. like a demonic squirrel praying the hydro doesn't go out, i keep my freezer stocked, just like my heart, all for you.
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
wine dribbled over the top of the glass
when i slammed it down on the table,
i hadn't realized how strong i had become
when i was drunk, but it wasn't muscles forming
or armor tightening, it was simply inebriation
thawing the from the inside out, i wanted
to spill everything, including that wine.
the wine dried, forming little skins,
belonging to grapes on the wood table top...
reminded me of all the things i kept inside,
under scabs, where
the blood was running but couldn't make
contact and there i hid the things i so
desperately wanted to tell you; wine scabs
and drunken lullabies and a truancy of
relief that i was never relieved to have had
the very next morning.
Sunday, May 5, 2013
Lips stained with wine,
But eyes like a tiger.
There behind the glass
they hid their secrets from
one another only giving
each a tiny glimpse of the
other's soul through grape
pursuits and winery whines.
They stirred on everyday
mediocre topics, but when
their silent gulps fell on
love they couldn't
take their eyes of
each other's glasses.