Saturday, April 5, 2014


I thought she was weak when she fell into his arms but when I found arms to fall into, I understood. 

Sunday, September 22, 2013


Everyone has a sound.
No I don't mean a voice
I mean 
a sound. 
The sound of a person. You don't hear it right away though, not like an introduction in an exchange of hands and names, but a sound, or sounds rather.
The sounds are almost rhythmic too, like patterns.
Every person has a sound or several sounds and if you can decipher them from each other, you can know just who's walked into the house, who is using the bathroom, who is in the kitchen. 
The pace of her walking, across the hall, sounds different than mine and he,
knows them both, so well. 
The person has a presence also, and if you are very good, you may not even need listen to the sounds of the person to tell who it is that's there without seeing them.
You just feel them.
She felt different than I,
we both, for him, felt the same. 
It was like this, sounds and sounding in silence. Silences' sound a thick and noiseless layer that is the loudest of all except when interrupted by sounds both familiar and un ---
Could you imagine in a city as noisy and congested as this,
you could hear some nights, the rattle of the laundry machine, a near by shower, the sizzling ash of this three quarter smoked cigarette in the rain. 
The rain. I can hear the rain. 
Sometimes what I think I hear is the sound of passionate breath between breathless kisses is really just a leaking air conditioning unit.
No one makes love quietly any more. At least not in the whispered way that tells me we are the only two people who know we are here and we are the only two people who exist.
Us and our sounds. 
I remember waking up one morning and feeling i could lay there all day long. Is this love? I thought. Or is it just too cold and snowy outside to imagine ever leaving this bed, this embrace?
I would know later, yes, it was love indeed. And that I do like winter. Because beds are warmer then. Or at least they feel warmer.
The sound of sheets. Oh! And then the smell....
Three pigeons come in the morning. For what, I do not know, except that they look perfectly placed and framed in that window, a grey and white speckled alley way, much like their own feathers. 
The pigeons always sound like pigeons , their sometimes amusing coos that sound a lot like cat purrrrs. They will always give themselves away. 

Friday, August 2, 2013


Books Go Any/EveryWhere
books for bed
and books for the train
books for sunshine
and books for the rain
books for tears
and books for smiles
books for road tripped travel miles
books for underlining
books for folding
books for borrowing
big books for holding
a book for leisure
a book for learning
a book for pleasure
a book for journaling 
I yearn to earn enough so that 
I might always have a book upon my lap
a cigarette to smoke and a worthy night cap. 
i could read them all and read them again,
start in the middle or maybe the end
take my money, take my love, my comforts
take my dignity, take my clothes
take my plans, I don't need those
but please dear taker, don't take those 
Books Are Any/EveryThing 
Have a thought and write it down
Then take a walk around downtown
Relate the lesson to the life that's
Pulsing by your bedside 
On page forty-five
And sentence two
The place, the word that reminded me of you. 
fuck me fuck me fuck me. 
to crossed eyes and sore thighs so that I can't read any more
And until the only thing that would sober my sexed brain
Is a book. 
Is a four letter word.

Monday, July 22, 2013


It's time to shed
That pillbox red
White white white 
Why'd shed auto correct to she'd?
A past tense of herself
She was already leaving her dead skin
feeling the wind and the sun and the stars and the night
For the first time
Thinking a season is only beautiful because it will not last
She'd shed like leaves on a tree
Burnt ones in July
Made to look like autumn 
Time for Springs beginnings
But only after 
A winters sleep. 

Wednesday, July 17, 2013


you can't loose anything when you were nothing to begin with.
the goal is to keep subpar
but never be at zero.
because nothing + nothing = +
but there's nothing to us, if we only have us.

the word/sound "OH!" is so poignant right now.

Saturday, June 29, 2013


I think I see you as you are as you think you are when you're alone.
I make you feel like not the only one in the room, but the lonely one in the room. I could make a joke or say something that's obvious like comment on the weather. Physical obvious observation obviously a deterrence to what I really want to ask and to what you really want to say. A smile passes It off. That silence of complete un-understanding more deafening than the tone of a woman screaming an orgasmic YES. And more uncomfortable than him not coming but doing all the work. A Conceptual Fuck. I'm used to tripping out in layers of complexity in total silence, layers like that strange flavor of chocolate cake I wanted only after you had described it, having wanted to eat it too. Licking my fingers before I even taste it. Feeling nauseous knowing I will succumb when the fork is to my mouth. And feeling better when we are on a road trip and when we come across a fork in the road, and you will ask me, "which way?" And I will open my mouth and say "left" but in my mind I will think 'did I really mean right?' But then having gone left and having stayed there for a while, and thinking of all the possibilities of right, it will have seemed as mundane as aftertaste, as a party missed, as the morning after, as pineapple or fruit punch. It's all just different combinations of dust and sugar and air.


I'm feeling nostalgic
For a summer in New York,
How could it be already a year since?
I'm feeling nostalgic and so I am here recreating what that first summer,
what last summer felt like,
Heat too hot to think,
An excitement of a new place,
A city burning underneath my fire escape
It looks grimey but there's no other place right now in the world id rather be than to be as lonely as the last cigarette
With cheap white wine and a book
Thinking of you...