Blood Orange

She drew a picture of a blood orange, said
sliced, this is your entirety, visibly awake
and blinks in threes. Visibly awake, and misses
something. But inside, unpeeled, waits a squishy
wheel in constant spin. It does not need its other
end. It does not need to stop again. It only needs
a color such as this, to be squeezed and squeeze
and spit seeds into a bin. Spits a sour drop into
a shattered glass and begs and begs for another
passing comment about what an orange is, and
everything that center could possibly have meant.

Un titled

I don’t wanna know what goes on in that ol’ fish bowl.
I don’t even wanna think about the drink, some mix of
beta, gold, iridescent of the overhead lights hung low. Swirls
of small waves. Stunts, only cheap escapes. Motherless conception, at best.
I do wish the ocean held your eyes, and the reflection of
a slow rise on a bitter orange morn. Vast enough to yearn for more.

What

What lack a melody
words. Words kick it
pattern like on tarp.

Foreskin rug of bliss
Wish I hadn't. Hadn't
gotten smoked alone.

Let in wish kin two
brothers bone. Step
back back towards.

dog god is a sunset god is a

dog god is a sunset god is a little old lady god is flower god is

god dog is a good dog no matter what the color dog is flower

is largely nocturnal and only where populations are relatively

high does one see them frequently in the daytime rarely one

getting fat is the common name for any large member of a family

of rodents the best choice for a new roommate for an adult male

on fire i'll be camping with no circus what's the buzz exclusive

reports gadafy's big tent is no circus august 8 not worth purchasing

And that has made no difference

On a back porch lit by embers

a tree tilts and splinters with a

whip-crack of drums on bark.

Wolves decide quietly, instead

devour dinner under a shady canopy,

which soaks street lights up like a cotton

shirt does blood. Hark, a soft thought

littered rises and sways: in what way does

wind wisp old leaves away, wipe

roads clean of any ambiguous destination?

Might we travel together down all

trails, tread long laughs as a quarter

in motion lands on both heads and tails?

Or would wizened women and men

run headlong backwards towards themselves

for mere instant gratification, list worries

and regrets upon a napkin folded in small doses,

clean messes made when minds spill over

from too much dwelling on empty spaces.

Between bare limbs, arms outstretched across oceans

of brown grass, a sliver of hope diverges.

A vessel sits void of any intimate urges.

Take the latter, forget the former. These thoughts

will only assassinate, as if time lasts forever.

No Form to Recompose

I wish the ocean was the color of your eyes

and the pavement the gentle grip of your fists

hidden under tables; wish this cigarette was your

tulip lips and the ash your words emptied out in the

blood letting of your mind, and that the wind would carry

your scent were there a way to put you in words. And I'd lick

a dollar bill if it'd remind me of your skin. I'd be fond of other

humans if only the world didn't have you in wandering through it.

VVV 2009 VVV

Sum r

The little leaves that dance

If you love me

Fate tempts

Subpass

Vancouver passions

Oral excrement

Shake the empty space

This box is only temporary

Dead hand deafness and...

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The overpass at night an

When in doubt look up

I lost a lot of things in la

Some wooden benches le

69" (65"). 43"

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You spread like butter

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613p

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Sometimes

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Airwick- those stupid CG

Title Legends - PS2