Archive for March, 2011


March 26, 2011

a bouy bobbing in a fickle sea of oil, you listen to the sound of words falling from your lips like molten vaseline dripping over an empty honeycomb, while everything you need swims in circles on the plate next door. You hopped on the trolley and fell out face flat into a seasick serenade about something chunky in your milk.

what would it do to you to drink it all down?

would you have to hold your nose to forget the flavor?



March 1, 2011

stuck in neutral on the highway, i am wearing your orange pea-coat. it bleaches my skin tone to yellow so the on-lookers can tell i’m a poser. rolling home from a park bench where i left missing pieces, i think about language, writing my little cat-hearted prayer for remittance. everything i’m excavating lays waiting like a angry spatula coming to flip my burning pancakes.