she finished her poptart
and two cigarettes before we
made it to the food truck.
after a short visit to
loading dock of the post office,
a single u-turn, and atm,
we parked behind it,
waited for our names to be called.
we pour hot sauce and talk about
expected digestion sitting
in the red zone.

she reassures me of where i am rooted now.

this long transformation of thought
consists of a lot of silence.
my baby brother made me proud
when a certain action matched
a certain promise.

this space between us,
spoken to drunken ears,
rested on facts tainted
by useless emotions.

pleasure meant running away
from any further development.

we made a case out
of clay from fragmented antiques.
its worth shattering
at the acquisition of disillusionment.

so to deal
we killed zombies
over greasy pizza and cold whiskey.

"um... i think the dog ran away...

perplexed by human behavior
and all the motivations
to hurt one another.

indifference, a bitch with no collar.

and it all appeared at once - a transitory clarification. warmly induced, his indifference allowed for a question to turn into close-eyed conversation that lasted til dawn. i didn't even notice the sun tapping me on the shoulder, stunned by repeated accusations, my eyes become swollen shut. all the fingers pointed at me. i was welcomed with tight lips and disappointed stares. all apologies returned, none of us could plead innocence to this whole affair. to each, there were pieces missing from any real clarification. all feelings unbound, my guilt left me dirtied at all endpoints of all their rationalizations.

unthreaded,
he follows the breeze.
fair and rugged,
he lands on
unforgiving lands.
expectations
arise to unfamiliar
silence.

he discovers
a heartbeat
at the tip of his finger.
ghosts flutter
in his stomach,
dodging glances
for fear of
transparency.

a gift
returned for freedom,
anxiety itching his feet,
he follows
familiar roads to
falling stars and
modern ruins.

leaving his
feelings on
the kitchen table
they extinguish a
shared smoke,
and fall victim to
the limited nature of all
of these words.

"i don't think life is absurd. i think we are all here for a huge purpose. i think we shrink from the immensity of the purpose we are here for."

i miss
you.
too.

chairlift.

aware of his losses,
his friend's words at the bar last night
leaves a ringing in his ear -
his chest already heavy from
last night's dinner.
his whole body shaking through sleep,
he repeatedly seems to hear the faint
chimes of his lullaby-like ringtone,
even in a silent room.
phantom vibrations against his leg
make him believe that
he's about to receive some good news,
which never really comes.
his desperation is much less sweet
when dark circles form around
eyes swollen shut.
(vulnerability only appealing
when you can offer sound advice).
with no one able to make any offering,
he peaks in his loneliness
in the middle of the night,
plummeting quickly at dawn.

i have proven to be a lot slower than i used to be -
mostly, words that never quite make it to my tongue.
all the capacity to filter lost in written words
that are often left unread.
my history written in broad strokes of light.
unable to create when i find myself
in some dark corner.
until brave hands pull my imagination out of this place,
it rests in the repetition of these words
of apology. and mythology.

my life a myth,
only denied or confirmed
by these hands that come and go.
wherever truth lies, is where i find
the reason to leave you again.
only,
you beat me to the punch.

Loveless - Okay

"to weep is to make less the depth of grief." - william shakespeare.

clean/movie/shower/drive/bank/drive away/gas station/park/bay cities/little ethiopia/street fair/thrift shop/urth/bodhi tree/ sierra bonita/ pizza/beer/scrabble/yatze/vertical sleep/walk/astro burger/walk/smoke/drive/sleep.

the star shot down
suspended in time
i rubbed my eyes clear
and looked again.
my two friends
lying in the road
behind me mouths
dropped wide open
in the silence
of seeing
what an epiphany
exactly looked like.
i spent the next
three minutes
making wishes for you.

Shout Me Out - TV On The Radio

i found my harmonica in the glove box of my car today
and played a little breathing game to sounds
stuck in the lunchtime hollywood summer traffic.

opting out on empty conversations,
i drop everyone's lunch off, set up the table and drive back home.
i sit by the air condition and eat my hot pasta.

i think a lot about how i spend my days
traveling in my head to the obvious places to find
a satisfying conversations that i cannot have in the city anymore.

the closer i get to you, the further i feel from truth.
and the more i think about you the further i feel any sense of sanity
what action are in accordance to words we forget?

the reason she's gone and i'm still here eludes me.
maybe it was to finally learn before i actually leave
what my life could have been here without you.

and i hope for the best for you
and can now say we both tried.

talk about moving on, we move on.
we talking about moving, and we are on
the ugliness that'll finally let us live again.

shout me out. tv on the radio.