"There's not much doubt in any of our minds that no complete idea springs fully formed from our brow,
needing only a handshake and a signature on the contract to send it off into the world to make twenty-five billion dollars.
The germ of the idea grows slowly..." - Walt Kelly

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Scalpel, stat

This will end up as a part of something larger, I think. But here it is for now, in all its unfinished, unpolished glory.
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He was already moving before the cold clink of ceramic had signaled a disaster. He snatched up the manuscript and ran to the paper cutter on his design table. Only the bottom, right corner of the paper had been contaminated so far, but it was leaching upward and outward, like blood on a white t-shirt. He placed the stack on the cutter, positioned it as exactly as his haste would allow and sheared the offending corner from the rest of his valuable work. He held the manuscript aloft and fluffed the pages, satisfied that he had caught the infection in time. He felt like a surgeon, having successfully removed a nonessential limb before the cancer had a chance to spread. He would treat himself to a celebratory bourbon.
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Playing on my iTunes at this very moment:
Souls of Mischief, 93 'til Infinity

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

A living room

Each deep breath is only a draft,
a tickling of hairs on the backs of our necks,
a phantom insect crawling in circles.
Each laden word is only a fraying edge of the rug,
spooling off into its own consequences
and choking the vacuum we've earned -
nothing will come up clean, tonight.
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Playing on my iTunes at this very moment:
The Dodos, Confidence

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Detach

A new worldview has been commissioned.
It will be a singular lens, an uninvited,
glaring eyeball into the convulsing soul
of the world - and what it sees will horrify us.

To ignore so many significant things,
it takes something equally paramount -
they can call it politics, or faith, or ideology.
Science has another name: the singularity.

Here is where we dump our unneeded,
here is where we discard our anchors and chains,
here is where everything we'd like to ignore
is swallowed up and lost to failing memory.

And so it is proven that each choice, so stark
and so significant, is just one twig on one branch
of one thick arm on the largest of all trees:
Zoom out and see for yourself how small you are.
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Playing on my iTunes at this very moment:
Lucius, Turn It Around

Better days

Herein lie the ashes of a memory,
carried by hearsay and worn pencils,
borne in fading notebooks and tattered journals.

See it now, spilled out and scattered.
See it now, huddled in the corner of the room,
nervous, sweating through its clothes.

See it now, angry and clouding,
bursting to and fro across the state -
an insatiable dervish of discontent.

See it now, exhausted and defeated,
panting against the side of a brick building,
breathing itself in and out, in and out.
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Playing on my iTunes at this very moment:
Jake Bugg, There's A Beast and We All Feed It