As I reflect on the material contained in my last several posts, Miss Cherry excluded, I find myself observing a number of interesting shifts in my perspective on this blogging project, especially over the course of the last month. What began as a rather rudimentary and unfettered attempt to apply bits of psychological theory to … Continue reading Re-Arrangements
“Art is the proper task of life.” – Nietzsche Having just returned stateside from a week-long vacation during which I did remarkably little writing—and no blogging—my brain is teeming with ideas. For the last three days, I have been seized by a frenzied urgency to get something out. And yet, I couldn’t place my finger … Continue reading On Being a Work of Art
It may be said that our erotic lives are comprised of the many expressions of our sexual imagination, or, put differently, that eroticism is sexuality transformed by the imagination, sublimated and refined for social consumption. I don’t think that definition is wrong. In fact, I think it’s pretty much right, however incomplete. When we think … Continue reading On the Eroticism of Everyday Life
I began composing the following lines as an introduction to a (now forthcoming) post titled, “On the Eroticism of Everyday Life.” As I wrote it, the section seemed to take on a life of its own and, in its entirety, appears more like a preface to a much larger work than the introduction to a blog … Continue reading The Used Life: An Experiment in Making Meaning
I. The hot flow of your hands softens my curled up edges irons the crumpled pages of my little leather notebook. II. Your mouth is a bridge of speech and lightning that shelters my belly from the quake. III. I read the typography of your thoughts on an axis of bent … Continue reading Four Untitled Poems
For as long as I can remember, my relationship to my creative endeavors has been marked by a strong desire to recoil. This is especially true of writing projects, past and present, and very well may include this blog post, which I might never look at again after I hit “Publish” (although, truthfully, this type … Continue reading Flinch.
Taken I want to enter the den of your thoughts Like a snake slips into a birdhouse. I want your fingers to comb my body like a bird, You breathe a ring of smoke encircles my thighs. I want to scale you like a mountain. I want to pulverize you like hot stone. I want … Continue reading Two Poems: “Taken” and “Man at the Bar”