Saturday, April 26, 2014


there were a total of ten paper numbers sticking out of waiting hands like roots of molars at the deli counter

parents getting sliced meat for the week half pound one pound kinda gets to you like flies on a horse like chiggers

sparks of weariness, flames of distress, smoke inhalation coughing of the lungs ahem you better keep that smile young man

Sunday, April 20, 2014


Work is where patience hardens, calloused from people One is simply there - not forced outright, only threatened by desk-sitters Feel those spent bills fondle each other in your hands and use them - it's their purpose Behold your trophies of turmoil and see the aids of pleasure gaze with approval People works and those who don't are either lazy or clever

Rest is hard for the simple, even their breathing
becomes a chore
Take a moment
Feel it
Ensnare it

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

Trees, Wood, Pulp, Paper

I feel that irritation often: the one that bereaves you of weighty experiences, that constant poking from different sources, blooms from narratives, never ceases but fluctuates, drips from excited senses, devours focus, suffocates fascination, obsessive, rampant, is urged by drunkenness, pacified by sleep, quelled by death