Poetry
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again, it haunts me. I exist: a collection of past histories. to be detached here. my brain remains stained: a thin film of sepia, still, coats every corner. to be detached, here. here: a test message. half-assed half-fuck confession said off the record. to be detached: here. I have forgotten the foreign feeling; how to…
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1. Blinking fast to imitate watching an old film reel. As if to capture you I watch you burn de-li-be-rate-ly into the spaces behind my eyelids: a silent protest, against a vague sense of mono no aware¹. All come to pass. This is my personal Hiroshima. Before you crash and burn, leave your shadows on my wall. 2.…
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Our love Is like the coffee mugs Left unwashed in the sink After a night of warm conversation. Our love: it’s like a corner, Folded in a book; Jutting out, of a stack of old newspapers. No, our love is a corner, gathering dust. No, our love is the cul-de-sac In the lives we had…
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transmitted messages to orphaned pagers litter the landscape, sullying the soil with words which follow others , phrasing phrases such as “I’ll call you sometime”, “I’ll see you tomorrow”, et cetera et cetera ad infinitum. we lie facing up, like numbers on a tattered phonebook – seeking reception – but we operate face down; plugged…
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delusional writing on an online page stimulates the memory of having done something one’s not. sitting in others’ shoes shows a lack of logic and restraint when it comes to remembering one’s place. do not just dance to forget it all. this is advice. this is instruction. suck it up. stick out your paw. go…
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The stones by the river- where we once sat, and dipped our feet, in the cooling stream- have been dry for a while. It makes me wonder if you were a dream. Wrote a lot of poems during training. No access to a computer yet, so I’ll post them when I finally return home. Found…
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The same-old, age-old, all-too-familiar facial movement: it’s like wearing a pair of old jeans. Same same but different. Likewise, the smile’s stretched out, stretched out to reach the ends of the world, and the teeth are bared- an impromptu dentist inspection, files of recruits falling in, trying to stay still, stay tidy, et cetera et cetera…
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I. “I know what I want But I don’t know where it is.” I’ll keep looking Around in circles of dust Left behind, in the afterglow And the aftermath. “I know what I want But I’m afraid to ask.” II. I wanted to feel it again. I want to feel the familiar Movement: wrist…
ugly stage 