Thursday, January 31, 2008


CRANIUM NIGHT

There are only the smallest moments left, when branches twining up among
the last steeples of light can make me feel a weakening inside, a wonderful
and hollow cusp of nothing.
Let sway the rigid atrophies! Scatter the spores of old hair-cuts,
nail polish, sweaty vinyl back seats,
gasoline and mowed lawns-
devour the immaculate!
The cranium night is long.
I am awake.
-

Monsters

  • (no title)
    THE DEAD ARE THIEVES, TOO They’ll pick your pocket clean, like that Ozark you left by the river. How many times do I have to talk to you? ...
  • (no title)
    CIVILIZATION AND ITS’ DISCONNECTS Turn off your computer. I know, I know. I will cease to exist. I will return to my cave of shadows, ha...
  • (no title)
    Tattle-Tale Nation