Tuesday, October 23, 2007
we wore band-aids on our nipples for the pheromone tour because you’ve got to give some to want some. we went down below sliding on the banisters of shown skin. we sang with the unwashed clothes of the pips formerly of “and the pips” fame. we rediscovered the short life, the long night, the hourly bells, the way old watches used to move the air in overhead vent shafts where mice knew of cities done, of the light that blocks out the light as she fixes her hair with one last look in the bathroom mirror, the way our genes make the overhead fan turn and noise the wires to spark and chew mouths full of large organs, of less words in the thread, unraveled.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Thanks, Allen
Body I lose faith in you still.
Body the crestfallen have come back to you. Unlikely prodigals in the shape of a shoe.
Body I lay with you and overhead the satellites are wistful.
Why is it no one steps forth and announces us free?
Body we've been together a long time, and although the relationship has been fruitful, perhaps we should consider parting ways.
Body we've had a good run but the door is open.
In the night we waited under pillows and even then there was fear. The fear was black. The night was black. Black, black, black.
Body why the attitude.
Once when I was five I held my hand to the sun and I swear I could hear you through my bones.
Body don't look now but I think I've had a vision.
Bodies everywhere and why do they do it.
A massacre of thumbscrews. Televised canings and precision holographic nightmares. Three old crones still singing around the fire.
Body no one's forgotten oblivion but it's just not polite to say.
Cheat codes unlock the magnificent weapons.
Body up up left right down.
Body we shall recalibrate the soulless and toast victory with green tea.
Fifty-two years and what have we gained.
Body I don't think of my father. But when I do I think he was a good man. This is the softness of later life.
In purple fur we took to the streets to lay the new empire. Aloft the purple flags.
Body I don't believe in Rome or in anything.
Body where will it end.
Body the crestfallen have come back to you. Unlikely prodigals in the shape of a shoe.
Body I lay with you and overhead the satellites are wistful.
Why is it no one steps forth and announces us free?
Body we've been together a long time, and although the relationship has been fruitful, perhaps we should consider parting ways.
Body we've had a good run but the door is open.
In the night we waited under pillows and even then there was fear. The fear was black. The night was black. Black, black, black.
Body why the attitude.
Once when I was five I held my hand to the sun and I swear I could hear you through my bones.
Body don't look now but I think I've had a vision.
Bodies everywhere and why do they do it.
A massacre of thumbscrews. Televised canings and precision holographic nightmares. Three old crones still singing around the fire.
Body no one's forgotten oblivion but it's just not polite to say.
Cheat codes unlock the magnificent weapons.
Body up up left right down.
Body we shall recalibrate the soulless and toast victory with green tea.
Fifty-two years and what have we gained.
Body I don't think of my father. But when I do I think he was a good man. This is the softness of later life.
In purple fur we took to the streets to lay the new empire. Aloft the purple flags.
Body I don't believe in Rome or in anything.
Body where will it end.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
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