"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

Friday, April 2, 2021

Cancellation of a fever dream

a slow rhythmic drone
fleshes out a technicolor ribcage
until trapped lungs bleat for freedom
and the nerves drift from the body
a forest learning to flee
from a quietly pixilating soul
that spent too long throwing spaghetti
and forgot it needed to feed

Playing on YouTube at this very moment:
Sun Ra Arkestra, Seductive Fantasty (the inspiration for this poem)

Tuesday, April 7, 2020

Ears before eyes

Hours have lived
and died
in the space of this whisper:
Something playful,
but also unfriendly,
the invitation to a fight.

Anger is the twang
of a breaking guitar string -
startling, abrasive, then gone;
all an act,
and the remembrance
of everything unnecessary.

So he dances like
leaves falling in autumn,
barely aware of himself,
and taken
by even the slightest twist
of an outgoing breeze.

Song of the Day:
Shad, The Fool Pt 3 (Frame Of Mind)

Friday, March 27, 2020

Hold fast

He followed the last words of her goodbye like a set of muddy tire tracks - praying that, even as they faded ever too quickly into the grayish-black asphalt of the night, they wouldn't really disappear forever.

Song of the Day:
Simon & Garfunkel, Baby Driver

Thursday, May 3, 2018

What's still to come?

Light follows your feet out the door,
the briefest imprints left behind
like prints on the beach,
soon to disappear in the darkness
of another hungry wave's pressure.

Here we tumble in the surf,
heads under feet, arms uncontrollable,
deaf in the crashing calamity.
But still: The sweating anxiety,
the fear - what's still to come?

Playing on my Spotify at this very moment:
Flying Lotus (ft. Kendrick), Never Catch Me
(I can't quit this music video.)