Wednesday, February 25, 2009


We are traveling forever, crushing the ground with fibers so much more efficient than gears, sanguine levers greener than cylinders, feet more silent than wheels.

We run endlessly across Antarctica, and the only sound is our breath freezing into glittering clouds of ice.

We laugh soundlessly, and the night sparkles.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009


The walls are breathing as I lie tilted and tumbling slowly in the cotton darkness. I can feel your arms around me like ghosts, cold with waiting. Lids close down and the universe shifts twenty seven point four degrees left and sixteen degrees back right as I jerk ahead and stumble over a crack in the floor that your dripping faucet forgot to mention as I crept across the cramped and crumbling tiles in search of a patch of air to place my potted plant, somewhere where the walls don't steal all of the air to sigh it out, chilled and empty, against my blind and blinking wrists-- pale, taut and trembling, always waiting. I focus my retinae to needlepoints to create a tiny one-moment, one-centimeter void, a lack of sensation, a relief on all fronts; potassium gates locked, pumps off. Sighing out to acidosis, concentration dropping, fingers twitching, pulse racing and nerves crackling. My bones release sounds and stiffness into the soft shoegazed abyss, but they leave energy with no will, windows with no shades to cover the unfortunate exhibition.

Thursday, February 05, 2009


I'm getting lost in static snowdrifts
Waiting, wandering, shivering
Straining my tired eyes, trying
Trying to see through the miasmatic flurries
The frozen fury.
I can't feel my toes
Can't bend my knees, anymore
As roots creep down, twining
Out of my hips, my shoulders
Sinking into the ice, into the asphalt, bulging, twisting
Lethargic nostalgic squeezing
Unnoticed, unconcerned.
Steadfast and wondering, I wait
Beneath the clandestine streetlamp
With my back to the night and my face to the wind.
Squinting, tensing, waiting
But you're never coming, are you?