can't say it
don't write on newsprint
ourn
keep saying it and
you will go the way of
a list!
For accolades and sleepless nights, thanks.
Now, who says a journal has to make sense? Sense is for the birds, I say.


A twin spark heartWe're almost home, I say to her as she sleeps.A twin spark heart
At a hundred miles an hour on empty motorway what was cut and blasted during day becomes empty gray parting black.
The moon is veiled over my right shoulder.
Dials burn red, red into night Then the glaring blue of a misplaced xenon filament, oncoming And the flat ribbon of river becomes
a steel sheet glimpsed under moonlight as the road slips beneath my rumbling tires.


The Wind And CranesNow the wind screams down glass canyons throughThe Wind And Cranes
brickwork veins through empty streets as motherfather sleep on the bench with oldcoat blanket.
The wind screams through crane lattices scarem. scarem off the streets.
Night's too long and too cold here she's keening, doesn't mean much baby quarrels and affirmations aren't from seven stories up.
When I see down there a woman embracing one unseen like she's dancing, yeah damn nice number when I only hear the wind screaming then puffs a fag and goes off pushing a babycart and two girls holding hands
Gua Tempurung

Days That BleedI don't sleep.Days That Bleed
Not since I pulled back
the sky and found not epiphany but
indifference glancing past.
Like how she bleeds nourishes feeds the bare earth, that wine ichor that spills and overflows her heart's boundaries.
Through my eyes of cracked marble. Amid the white, little streams of red.


Full Moon LoverThe moon was full.Full Moon Lover
A ripened belly filled with life and be-speckled by the spotted clouds
of a moderate winter-spring night. And I drove on contemplating it, respecting it and admiring the beauty with which it burst
so naturally. I thought of that moon
fused with you, two full moons,
a stunning gray shade of blue.
Striking and lovely, they cast their light all around me penetrating the thickness of dark that I had bathed in,
that surrounded me. With your light, I drove on a road twisting to the inside of &


Autumnally CloserI have stumbled: For days, for years, for a lifetime. Longer than I’ve known you, longer than I’ve held you, I’ve traipsed about through the clouds and lost myself inAutumnally Closer
my own heavy mystery. I have crumpled beneath and into it, and stained my clothing blue (with sky), and ripped my jeans while tangled in the thorns of the firmament. It is incomprehensible. I cannot count the mistakes I must
befall before I make it back down from space to your twisted, terrestrial tree blooming plum flowered kisses out of a benevolent earth,
--
I suppose this is me slowly dying,
smearing myself against you, against the words I write,
leaving little bits like bright red Christmas presents,
moist and smelling like old iron artillery.
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