I’ll call on her to be my whispering reminder that
there are days that start with noise
and turn to nights that end in slumber
I’ll call on her to be my in-between dream speaker
singing songs of fire and sugar
humming tunes of bliss and glum
What will I do?
I will do nothing
Because I have done something
Quite good enough
No I’m not resting
On past accomplishments
I am resting, proudly
On failures and incompletes
Office supplies positioned at odd angles and/or juxtaposed inappropriately #5
The basics: scissors (never used), notebook (used 6 times), and clear clean focus (uncountable).
052810
Office supplies positioned at odd angles and/or juxtaposed inappropriately #4
Deep in thoughts, the thoughts being:
1. Is a person an office supply?
2. Is there such a thing as too much green saturation?
3. You see that brickwork on that building behind my head - the $90 million building! - do you see it? Well, you see - it’s new but it looks old.
Office supplies positioned at odd angles and/or juxtaposed inappropriately #3
Mountains: Often imaged, rarely climbed.
052810
Office supplies positioned at odd angles and/or juxtaposed inappropriately #2
Not to mention oversaturated and badass.
052810
Office supplies positioned at odd angles and/or juxtaposed inappropriately #1
Details are important
052810It’s windy today. The closest mountain is out of my sight line. The only way out of this is patience. The only way up to there us ascension. That’s the surest thing.
I’m seated in the opposite position from where I’m going. I’m perched but I’m still. I’m set to soar but I’m slow to move. This is Saturday and I am missing.
A brand new day has come. A brand new light has been directed toward the dark corners. I hear a knock on the window. I hear wisdom between the knock and the beep-beep. I’m never standing in that garden again. They’ve set up a few newly ragged, formerly smooth standing rocks for me. I’m not leaving until I feel like. Creators don’t leave until it’s time.
I’ve created a tiny-handed monster. But I have big hands. I subsume. I win.
11 years and 2 months ago
she can run her fingers through her platinum
and tell him why
but that doesn’t change what she’s there for
what she was called there for
in the middle of the dizzy desert night
she was called there
to give him license to write
to give him license to struggle
for what he was given without condition
he is a fool, she will walk away the better for it
she was called there
to be his vision in white
to be his vision in glass light glory
in what shouldn’t even be his home
in what never really was his home, she’ll walk away
she breathes in and hums
Cat Power, cat gone purring
she breathes in and strums
an invisible guitar, her generation doom in full effect
he breathes out and hums
Will Oldham, no gold digger
he breathes out and comes
he’ll sleep a baby, his pulp impure in her holy hell
she can run her fingers through her platinum
and say it’s fine
she’ll stay the night, in the living room
she doesn’t want to leave, really
with the dizziness in sight
13 years ago today
Haley left town without saying
why she left town without saying
goodbye
captured, described
but why why why
is their sediment material
under your nail?
were you a fugitive?
were you a martyr?
you never said anything
so we
don’t
know
When is it just too much?
Is it:
A. Waking up on a train.
B. Selling legally purchased electronic goods to orthodox Jews in Beverly Hills operating a fly-by-night operation that must be seen and experienced to be believed and regretted… and then standing in the doorway of the world’s most successful “lap band” company in order to be free of cell phone reception-destroying torrential winds in order to make a crucial phone call.
C. Waking up in a train station.
D. Arguing with a Napoleon-Complex-ridden bus driver about who is blocking whom at a gas station, a bus driver clearly not impressed with the giant painted arrows beneath the soles of his white shoes, beneath the tires of his unnecessary bus going the opposite way of the arrows… the arguing made more vehement because there existed the need to stand next to a fax machine to receive several faxed pages relating to a joint tax return from 2006, a return that the IRS might have problems with.
E. A and C.
F. B and D.
G. None of the above.
H. All of the above.
I’m still breathing so I will choose G.
>
I’m right!
(Note: Not all of these things necessarily happened to me.)
And we end with history (in the) making. #5 of 5
051010Song #4 is a stunner. It never fails to touch me. Mr Casiotone portrays a Mr. Wright, a young man with a heart that would have been broken had it ever been fully intact. As it is, he’s getting by. Doesn’t Elle realize that he had sold his violin just so they could live together?
051010About those 5 songs…. #2 is nowhere to be found, not online, not now at least. #3 is available though. I believe this is a song in which the narrator is an older man giving advice - bad advice - to someone much younger. There are three things that we should all be admire and be careful of: wisdom from the old, over-eagerness from the freshman psychology major, and Malcolm Gladwell. (Interestingly, Kenna - the guest vocalist here - figures prominently in Gladwell’s Blink. Not having read the book, I have no idea why but I’m sure it’s profesionally written.)
051010I made a playlist the other day. The middle portion of this particular mix sounds so magnificent - in my car, in my head - that I had to share it with the world. Here’s song #1 of 5… Q worries that they’re (he’s) barely in love. Barely is enough though.
051010There hadn’t been that much remorse
At the farewell for the funeral kid
We only saw remnants of remorse
When he hauled his ass down a county road
With envelopes in glove compartments
And day trips to police departments
In towns with three word names
There were codes
Yes, no, maybe
There were rugs
Persian, sheepskin
There were hands
Worn, weak
He had ideals
He had delineations
From regret to resurrection back to remorse
He then disappeared of course
Because there hadn’t been that much
There hadn’t been enough remorse
He couldn’t grasp the lack of concern
So he set out to make an illegal U-turn
Midday on a Thursday
No more codes
Just the Codex at the museum
Closed on Thursdays
Like nothing else in the known sleepless world
He slept late and that was that
