just ask (shall we be friends) or strangers over coffee are you good (with love and) yes i’m sure then call whenever (i wish i could but) my baby’s windows are always open at night (no filter) the bliss of cozy winter both of us living right touched by hands and mouths (cross my heart) [...]
Category: poetry
Mannequin Planet
Original artwork by T. Blake pencil in the image of a dancing lady dress melted down like tobacco, a hit of vintage perfume and a smooth gathering of chiffon at the ankles, this will be her scene enter: a cat with a cool strut his groove is loose like silver, a cabaret like a one-man [...]
Memory Tree
if you come back, everything will dissolve at once, and how should i hang static in the approaching summertime? sleepwalking, 3 a.m. another ageless migration my memory runs still like watercolor rock paper swords and liquid airplanes the trippest discovery that ‘someday’ tastes a little like dime store pop just adventuresome you and so much [...]
Open, Safari
i’ll take you now while the lights are out and our bodies are loose like birds on a hunt for simple treasure where i think we could be happy sitting on pavement and dining under a crooked tree this hour, our hands clasped on a river, sand on your face, and the summer motif of [...]
Punk Run
: all about the god flesh a dark piece of matter and the impression of a soft liberation beyond the apparitions of shattered ceilings and paper planes (the cool wealth is rearranged) chiseled apparatus of our childhood dreams, the vogue of impossible endings it’s a secret authentic as bone marrow for the TV gods and [...]
Banshee Blues
you can tell a woman by the way she deals with the devil small like a plastic hurricane the way she ups and rolls and jives with the punches soft penance rescued from the fists of destiny like mud on the water ambitious voodoo once in a blue moon daylight’s the only crime she never [...]
Satellite Rhythm
from here cue the sounds of nature : thunderstorm, wren, mid air, the peaceful rejection of rains on a river a lone, untrampled thought like a cloudburst on a sudden Tuesday dull sky : forest white-eyed halo, a field of angels with mud on their backs holy junkyard trinity (says the man from a homesick [...]
