November 2008
30 posts
1 tag
balls aflame
Atmospheres on fire… thousands, see them. Dance toward electric lights and towers of the city-scape, float on breeze through palm fronds, the antennae of a little lady bug princess wizard and gladiator. The DJ plays her favorite song and mixes it into another—glass. Bubble-makers beat fog-machines.
October 2008
15 posts
3 tags
"B00!…" "don’t frighten me that, if you please"
Having surged from behind—Le Noir was startled. Something in the dark hole eyes nestled softly into gossamer layered thin white sheets—kiss Drake—cheek, angelic clasping palm—to palm, temple. Place him in canoe on rivulet still, kissing eyes until close. Drake smiles a sleep—boat softly rocks him.
in carnations
Poetry is an investment in your great-grandchildren’s grandchildren. Write more. Once you find your domain—leave it. Develop and fortify bridges, build intricate tunnels—prepare for wind and flood your mines. Detach yourself from everything—that drains. Write wild fires for one other. Flames can’t consume the earthen tunnels. Rewind…
le godet de dunette
Leaning up against and then falling alongside the tall dark and ominous Bin Saunters through her yard, caressing her hedges and smoothing over her cracks. Bin pauses Annette—reaches, winded debris swirls, leaves, tiny smoke-like tornadoes through hair and scene. What a lot. To be so utilitarian—a device.
Sam Cooks
Tired fingers chop roots, perfectly tapering vortexed dissection—breadth to point, reach, stalked celery stands in ice, boxed with Cornish game wings bumbling, soft—rhythmic notions in his palm. His fingers wander, Waltz ‘round coined carrots, tossing, celery moons—in iteration to shuffling toes. The kettle hole receiveth: bubbling… hot.
1 tag
immortal combat
I am afraid of you being the best I have been given, or instead of fear—contrast: a traced beastly existence of pure evils burden. I have questioned everything through you and found myself digging treasurous depths of illuminated darkness. Everything hurts, but nothing hurts—Sensei, somehow you get me.
2 tags
Libel
It began the morning after, she forfeits her chance at sober face-to-face conversation by delivering his childhood friend to work on time.
They publish jokes about her gestures. She lacks the discipline to look away. It seems as though the whole wide world is laughing.
They are laughing—still.
your bridegroom is wearing my trousers
I realize we’re useless to one another as fresh cream to a dirty dog, but that point doesn’t prevent my offence at this gossip campaign of the tackiest fingers. My wardrobe’s hand-selected by me—for me… You need not rummage the closet for evidence of how much is borrowed.
on her way out back: the party.
Felicitae knew something was different. Not light, rather a walking shadow whisperer of soft secrets she couldn’t comprehend, drawing her—closer. It motioned a pretence: a visit or perhaps an invite to become one. She carved her initials in the tree before them, leaving her journals behind—in the den.
3 tags
the 15th story hurt least.
When Felicitae called upon him to retrieve her paper-crane and work, the machine ate her messages. Silvar responds with anonymous public ad campaigns across town, his associates throw her confettied work cut into shapes of mockery out 3rd & 4th story windows… She alters appearances—only passing through for work or school.
4 tags
the ad
Silvar directs most private affairs by ad campaign, commissioning one announcing his intent to court. The comic cell of images depicting them has Felicitaes faces cut out and placed in alignment with the face of her understudy—a paper doll Silvar will fold her confettied dresses upon emblazoned in Times.
6 tags
billboard games
Going beyond this city into masterful works of landscape panorama, Felicitae wonders at Silvars intent including silhouetted paper cranes which could never temper such arid terrain. How often she wished for death or dignity… Silvar won’t stand for it—concealing another oil-refinery behind his mountainside; speaking cryptically at her.
2 tags
Announcing the Minefields
Approaching the sky-scraping advertisement announcing the engagement. The most recent confetti-clad feline upholding and reciting her dicktionary (the denned genesis cross hatching specific timely themes into one common thread,) torch in air, gold gilt paper cranes hanging from delicate chains around her neck. An airplane eclipses the sun.
defixiones:All Apologies.