morning on henderson streetdogs bark and cry. shoelaces anchor some kids sneakers over providing telephone lines. lovers hold each other closer, dreading the moment their together-flesh separates and they must act as Individuals (whatever that means). and the graffitied bricks speak to the drunks stumbling home in pre-rise light, hoping to make it within someone's walls before the professionals pull out of their driveway-- their polished shoes easy on the gas. (they are in no rush to reach Greater Things, because settling feels better.) the students stir-- the only dreams ofmorning on henderson street
meteors("It's the Most Beautiful Thing i've ever seen." other than Us. the drip-drop of iloveyous fall as steady as those stars, and all the coins you drop out of your pockets every time We fall into bed. i could sit on this rooftop for weeks, speaking Truths for no one but Us, and listening to laughing drunks on the street below. that was A Moment.)meteors
in the morning the intellectuals suffocate me with their theories while my Crazy blooms in the margins--i confuse it with my Happy (so do you). making words for Us is impossible-- The Verses flatten all The
gunswe could have had it all, but you ran fast, and i was left with halved valves. you left behind a Reverberation, it ripples through me every time i allow myself to use the Feeling Part.guns
you always told me that you were scared, because the hands that held the guns that killed Innocents, held your babies. those hands held me too. they touched me everywhere.
never before have i loaned so much of my sinew to one, and i think you forgot to return parts of it, even you knew you were just borrowing, even though i told you you were just borrowing. &
the Subject remainsall the words i write are dedicated to The Men that pulled me apart and pierced me backwards. words written while sitting on a keg that now is empty, but at one time held my Only Escape. (for months i have escaped into Your Mind-- i've watched you try to decide whether to run or stay behind and fix this mess; it is easier than living within my own.)the Subject remains
my life revolves around the temporary: cigarette butts lined up in a row--a reminder of everything i have to lose-- and tubes of paint and catnaps and poems i can't bring myself to read anymore, because i wr
--
Wise is he who enjoys the show offered by the world.
-Pessoa
--
"Found something, I would die for now I don't feel fit to live.
Are you the one?, it finishes with.
I spend my day's thinking of you prayin you would think of me.
Was I wrong? to let you just leave..... me... "
--
"Nothing can happen till you swing the bat."
"It takes an idiot to do cool things. That's why it's cool."
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so i herd u liek mudkips?~~
it's really appreciated
--
Dying is my bliss...
returning the favor
--
amor vincit omnia
*christians
"Above all, maintain constant love for one another, for love covers a multitude of sins." (1 Peter 4:8, NRSV)
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