and he killed the music
he fingers attacking the keys
too rushed
like a fire spreading over the room
the sounds of two melodies
now deceased
suffocated together in a forced clash
burned alive--
satisfied with his work,
he stood up and left,
combing through his wet hair
as he walked down the hall.
feels like.
feels like pulling a ribbon from inside your throat
feels like i-can't-i-don't-but-
feels like the same story with a different ending
feels like cold sweat tingling your spine
feels like your silhouette walking across the grass
feels like the moment when body falls from bed
feels like stones skipping on water
feels like wishing for one more
feels like push
feels like pull
feels like swaying together before sun wakes up
feels like screaming and echoing lost
feels like a trap too strong
feels like you can't win
feels like i don't care
feels like whiskey shots
feels like slipping
feels like grass stains immune to bleach
feels like shouldn't have
feels like too late
feels like the flu, bronchitis, sprained ankle combined
feels like rain
feels like i-can't-i-don't-but-
feels like the same story with a different ending
feels like cold sweat tingling your spine
feels like your silhouette walking across the grass
feels like the moment when body falls from bed
feels like stones skipping on water
feels like wishing for one more
feels like push
feels like pull
feels like swaying together before sun wakes up
feels like screaming and echoing lost
feels like a trap too strong
feels like you can't win
feels like i don't care
feels like whiskey shots
feels like slipping
feels like grass stains immune to bleach
feels like shouldn't have
feels like too late
feels like the flu, bronchitis, sprained ankle combined
feels like rain
"souffle"
he positioned me across two chairs
as if my body was a bridge:
one end the hips and up
one end the feet with their painted toes.
he left me there to stare
at the poster of A bout de souffle
in yellow, black and white:
her hands playing a game of sorts
that female smile spanning her face
pushing her cheeks in
apples of unseen blush;
and he, silent, smoking, small,
looking at her and her fingers
and face
as if that was all there was
in the world--
a bed with sheets
fateful femme of his past, present, and future
his hands clutching his stomach
as he lay flat
on the bed that contained,
for now,
the two of them.
a look of unsettling clues
to what will happen:
that her smile is too set,
that he is under
her mysterious play,
that his eyes are troubled with deciphering her face
and failing,
sucking on the cigarette whose smoke rises out of his sight
and grasping
he no longer can retain any of this:
upset me
as i lie here,
my hips-toe bridged on two chairs,
while the people outside the room looking through the glass pane
in the door
assume
that i just want to sleep.
as if my body was a bridge:
one end the hips and up
one end the feet with their painted toes.
he left me there to stare
at the poster of A bout de souffle
in yellow, black and white:
her hands playing a game of sorts
that female smile spanning her face
pushing her cheeks in
apples of unseen blush;
and he, silent, smoking, small,
looking at her and her fingers
and face
as if that was all there was
in the world--
a bed with sheets
fateful femme of his past, present, and future
his hands clutching his stomach
as he lay flat
on the bed that contained,
for now,
the two of them.
a look of unsettling clues
to what will happen:
that her smile is too set,
that he is under
her mysterious play,
that his eyes are troubled with deciphering her face
and failing,
sucking on the cigarette whose smoke rises out of his sight
and grasping
he no longer can retain any of this:
upset me
as i lie here,
my hips-toe bridged on two chairs,
while the people outside the room looking through the glass pane
in the door
assume
that i just want to sleep.
just another one.
i was taking a shower when he walked past and stopped to say hello.
as he was talking, his hands reached out. i interpreted that as him needing water.
so i directed my water towards his hands and hoped that was enough.
when i got dressed--and it felt like a different day--we sat with our backs to the wall and talked.
or he talked with the pretense of answering my questions of insecurities, only to tell me things that made me look away. i wasn't interested. and it bothered me that he didn't care enough to see that i wasn't paying attention to stop talking.
it's good that it was a dream.
because he's a professor. and he walked in on me when i was taking a shower. in the hallway.
what a weird house. (it had cameras linked up to other rooms.)
earlier, an hour earlier, i had another dream, where, as i was sitting with a friend on an indoor wooden bench running along the wall, i showed him something that involved looking at an object through a lens of sorts. then his arm crept around my neck and shoulders and said, "this is a good way to hit on someone."
i smiled as he was smiling already, and sat there, looking straight ahead after my gaze turned away from him.
i sat there, on that wooden bench along the wall, and felt so comfortable. so warm. protected. secure.
it brought back memories when i trusted myself to be that close to someone else, when i felt that warmth.
except this time, it was warmer, knowing that he wasn't that serious, and neither was i.
conclusion?
i really like sitting against walls.
as he was talking, his hands reached out. i interpreted that as him needing water.
so i directed my water towards his hands and hoped that was enough.
when i got dressed--and it felt like a different day--we sat with our backs to the wall and talked.
or he talked with the pretense of answering my questions of insecurities, only to tell me things that made me look away. i wasn't interested. and it bothered me that he didn't care enough to see that i wasn't paying attention to stop talking.
it's good that it was a dream.
because he's a professor. and he walked in on me when i was taking a shower. in the hallway.
what a weird house. (it had cameras linked up to other rooms.)
earlier, an hour earlier, i had another dream, where, as i was sitting with a friend on an indoor wooden bench running along the wall, i showed him something that involved looking at an object through a lens of sorts. then his arm crept around my neck and shoulders and said, "this is a good way to hit on someone."
i smiled as he was smiling already, and sat there, looking straight ahead after my gaze turned away from him.
i sat there, on that wooden bench along the wall, and felt so comfortable. so warm. protected. secure.
it brought back memories when i trusted myself to be that close to someone else, when i felt that warmth.
except this time, it was warmer, knowing that he wasn't that serious, and neither was i.
conclusion?
i really like sitting against walls.
introduction.
you have never met me
so you ask lots and lots of questions
hoping that i would
by a little gesture here
or a little word there
let slip my personality and roots
i observe you, stranger:
your eyes, jumping every few seconds
around my face and occasionally
to my painted mismatching nails
and occasionally to my scissored hair
and occasionally to my love handles,
my thighs, hidden, calves, exposed,
occasionally to my heart-cut watch
ticking away without a battery
...
then
you settle on my eyes:
i see all your questions
still holed up inside
those unsteady eyes,
trying their best
to be something they're not.
so you ask lots and lots of questions
hoping that i would
by a little gesture here
or a little word there
let slip my personality and roots
i observe you, stranger:
your eyes, jumping every few seconds
around my face and occasionally
to my painted mismatching nails
and occasionally to my scissored hair
and occasionally to my love handles,
my thighs, hidden, calves, exposed,
occasionally to my heart-cut watch
ticking away without a battery
...
then
you settle on my eyes:
i see all your questions
still holed up inside
those unsteady eyes,
trying their best
to be something they're not.
trip.
i want to grow big
so you will not lose me
like you lost that slip of paper
and your key
and your favorite pen in blue
in that room
that was new to you
in that paid-for hotel
with the little bottles of
shampoo and conditioner combos
and complimentary mints
in a city you were in
for one day
just one day and in the night
you left
leaving all those things behind
the way you left me.
so you will not lose me
like you lost that slip of paper
and your key
and your favorite pen in blue
in that room
that was new to you
in that paid-for hotel
with the little bottles of
shampoo and conditioner combos
and complimentary mints
in a city you were in
for one day
just one day and in the night
you left
leaving all those things behind
the way you left me.
morning.
the nose has sunk into the face
fact: there is no less time now than there was before
though she lost the last nine seconds to reading words that are empty of meaning (as all things are)
fact: she still has as much time as she had before losing her seconds
that is to say
fact: she does not own time
does time own her?
fact: there is no less time now than there was before
though she lost the last nine seconds to reading words that are empty of meaning (as all things are)
fact: she still has as much time as she had before losing her seconds
that is to say
fact: she does not own time
does time own her?
sentenced.
your head cannot stand the weight of hats,
prisoned with felted lines of nobility
you do not deserve
nothing goes your way
so you make your way and pave
the grass with stolen cement
you charge a tollbooth,
smile with a gold tooth.
i want none of your smooth.
you skilled artist of hard paints:
how might you fool the next soft fool
who comes close with her heart lodged still in throat?
you have no shame as your colors show,
you have no tricks of the trade--
you are the tricks of the trade.
prisoned with felted lines of nobility
you do not deserve
nothing goes your way
so you make your way and pave
the grass with stolen cement
you charge a tollbooth,
smile with a gold tooth.
i want none of your smooth.
you skilled artist of hard paints:
how might you fool the next soft fool
who comes close with her heart lodged still in throat?
when the wind blows,
you know it's time to go
before your skin bares all to the world.
you have no shame as your colors show,
you have no tricks of the trade--
you are the tricks of the trade.
(you bach.)
you look like a man
who could kill someone and get away with it
after all, you had
everything
you had no need
for someone else's everything
and who would believe that with so much
Enlightenment
you could be so
dark?
you are the master of particles
of light and good vibes
yet you love a man
who so freely fathered and lost
his children unknown and dead
worst of all, abandoned
and you say you love this man
and the words that filled his mind?
chains,
i see them all.
who could kill someone and get away with it
after all, you had
everything
you had no need
for someone else's everything
and who would believe that with so much
Enlightenment
you could be so
dark?
you are the master of particles
of light and good vibes
yet you love a man
who so freely fathered and lost
his children unknown and dead
worst of all, abandoned
and you say you love this man
and the words that filled his mind?
chains,
i see them all.
stayed.
tambourine and tangerines and the oils on your fingers
smeared across my camera screen
careening cars outside screech
hearts start
chest opened by the unbuttoned shirt
unbuttoned by chipped fingernails, the dirt beneath, the germs
always find their way to me
tender skin and waiting skin and broken skin
openings close
closings die
dying for a first time
living for a second
seconds in a broken encounter of skins refusing to stay
dropped in a broken glass, shattered in place
after swearing, after starting, after all
broken we stayed
we stayed in place.
smeared across my camera screen
careening cars outside screech
hearts start
chest opened by the unbuttoned shirt
unbuttoned by chipped fingernails, the dirt beneath, the germs
always find their way to me
tender skin and waiting skin and broken skin
openings close
closings die
dying for a first time
living for a second
seconds in a broken encounter of skins refusing to stay
dropped in a broken glass, shattered in place
after swearing, after starting, after all
broken we stayed
we stayed in place.
shuttling back.
at night,
on tuesday,
when we had a couple of minutes to say
how it is that you--that i--
slipped the mind?
there were some creatures
giving light
on the grass that was wet
with natural sweat
that smelled just like
wet grass,
unsmoked and pure,
strong in its just-born life,
green though unseen.
since it was dark,
we walked that way--
not together, though
not apart--
i remembered to say goodbye,
and it ended there
on the young grass,
lit,
but still quite dark.
on tuesday,
when we had a couple of minutes to say
how it is that you--that i--
slipped the mind?
there were some creatures
giving light
on the grass that was wet
with natural sweat
that smelled just like
wet grass,
unsmoked and pure,
strong in its just-born life,
green though unseen.
since it was dark,
we walked that way--
not together, though
not apart--
i remembered to say goodbye,
and it ended there
on the young grass,
lit,
but still quite dark.
dinner.
each burn burned into my forearm
seems to say
this is past
you cannot touch me with the same fire and sear
the ways of learned mistakes and accidents
that cannot be erased unless
you think against the fire and convinced
emerge healed
with new skin and new hair
different but fine
as a temporary coat
to prevent the boiling water from steaming your index
and the activated oil from touching your face
as if they could ever change you from who you were
you know who you are
for now
and you know where you are
right now
among friends around the dinner table with napkins at hand
and forks and knives at a safe distance
and spoons reflecting all that you have made for yourself
you, in your seat, looking at the gauze and bandage stuck on your forearm,
hope it is all good to taste.
seems to say
this is past
you cannot touch me with the same fire and sear
the ways of learned mistakes and accidents
that cannot be erased unless
you think against the fire and convinced
emerge healed
with new skin and new hair
different but fine
as a temporary coat
to prevent the boiling water from steaming your index
and the activated oil from touching your face
as if they could ever change you from who you were
you know who you are
for now
and you know where you are
right now
among friends around the dinner table with napkins at hand
and forks and knives at a safe distance
and spoons reflecting all that you have made for yourself
you, in your seat, looking at the gauze and bandage stuck on your forearm,
hope it is all good to taste.
nothing.
lusty eyes that tell you nothing fall on the hole in your shirt
so you step into the circle of silence that roams over your head
to protect you from her glare
those lusty eyes that tell you nothing fall on the nothing on your wrist
but you do not care for time
for time tells you nothing
time passes in the morning when you are asleep
and time leaves all men without a farewell in the night
you are protected from nothing that she dangles from her mouth
the lips that are colored a passionless red part
and nothing falls out
and you do not care for nothing.
so you step into the circle of silence that roams over your head
to protect you from her glare
those lusty eyes that tell you nothing fall on the nothing on your wrist
but you do not care for time
for time tells you nothing
time passes in the morning when you are asleep
and time leaves all men without a farewell in the night
you are protected from nothing that she dangles from her mouth
the lips that are colored a passionless red part
and nothing falls out
and you do not care for nothing.
look.
i look at your eyes
though they look not on me
hardly seen in black and white
some light emerges
on your face
and what a face
with all its lines
in handsome places--
the marks that scatter
so deliberately flatter
and i, the viewer,
feel abandoned,
though it is nonsense:
for i looked upon you,
without your notice.
though they look not on me
hardly seen in black and white
some light emerges
on your face
and what a face
with all its lines
in handsome places--
the marks that scatter
so deliberately flatter
and i, the viewer,
feel abandoned,
though it is nonsense:
for i looked upon you,
without your notice.
how i feel.
prologue
why don't i tell you how i feel
and wait as you charge yourself
for a few moments
to yell
i.
why do you not see the things i see
i see them so plainly
and you do not
you are wrong
ii.
false prophets
were born on the same day
yet one was taken
by the people
iii.
to where shall we go
if you and i cannot walk together
when i lose my temper
when i cry for no reason
iv.
so, then, on that day
when the sun and moon
spoke to each other
did you wonder?
v.
generally speaking,
when our heads fall off
and our bodies collapse
we will have no more worries
epilogue.
if you won't say it,
i will, friend.
relatively speaking,
this is bullshit.
why don't i tell you how i feel
and wait as you charge yourself
for a few moments
to yell
i.
why do you not see the things i see
i see them so plainly
and you do not
you are wrong
ii.
false prophets
were born on the same day
yet one was taken
by the people
iii.
to where shall we go
if you and i cannot walk together
when i lose my temper
when i cry for no reason
iv.
so, then, on that day
when the sun and moon
spoke to each other
did you wonder?
v.
generally speaking,
when our heads fall off
and our bodies collapse
we will have no more worries
epilogue.
if you won't say it,
i will, friend.
relatively speaking,
this is bullshit.
crash.
do waves crash
do they collide
do they fight and struggle
for their space?
do leaves make war
provoked by wind
do they kick each other
to survive?
do winds punch
and push their ways
are they always
so awake?
and you and i
can we decide
just how much hate
we're willing to take?
can we let it
dissipate?
do they collide
do they fight and struggle
for their space?
do leaves make war
provoked by wind
do they kick each other
to survive?
do winds punch
and push their ways
are they always
so awake?
and you and i
can we decide
just how much hate
we're willing to take?
can we let it
dissipate?
tune.
soon
the chair moves by it
closer
dragging an awful tune along the floor
and the floor groans and screams
but do not think of its pain
as the chair steadily moves itself
watch it approach
horror that vaporized in the air
reaches for the nose that could not turn away
and inhale
and exhale
and inhale the tune
i tuned for you.
the chair moves by it
closer
dragging an awful tune along the floor
and the floor groans and screams
but do not think of its pain
as the chair steadily moves itself
watch it approach
horror that vaporized in the air
reaches for the nose that could not turn away
and inhale
and exhale
and inhale the tune
i tuned for you.
after dinner.
middle-aged dragonflies
zooming on the grass-tipped lane
having no answer to their questions
of where and why
flying on the third-world rot
they lose their breath
and bump into each other's wings
i walked among them
and lost all meaning
no direction from the air
i stood while others stared
i remembered why i stopped
and told myself i know nothing of you
i know nothing you don't know
i know nothing of middle-aged dragonflies.
zooming on the grass-tipped lane
having no answer to their questions
of where and why
flying on the third-world rot
they lose their breath
and bump into each other's wings
i walked among them
and lost all meaning
no direction from the air
i stood while others stared
i remembered why i stopped
and told myself i know nothing of you
i know nothing you don't know
i know nothing of middle-aged dragonflies.
offerings.
won't i please
your hand do take
in mine
and mine alone
through the broken sweets
i offered thee
at ten past three
past all the trees
i did take but one
along with me
to the carpet
of hall deedee
and there i sat
wondering still
what will i do
with your words
that did play and run
like children ought
like we forgot
through the omens
of future years
what will i do
with your words
that crushed the sweets
you did not see?
your hand do take
in mine
and mine alone
through the broken sweets
i offered thee
at ten past three
past all the trees
i did take but one
along with me
to the carpet
of hall deedee
and there i sat
wondering still
what will i do
with your words
that did play and run
like children ought
like we forgot
through the omens
of future years
what will i do
with your words
that crushed the sweets
you did not see?
summer heat.
well i
well i hesitate
while i
while i wait
i hesitate
his head's a cake
some summer heat
a melting wait
a melting bait
well ran dry
while i dry
these clothes tonight
the laundry goes and
while i wait
he hesitates
i take the bait
while he works his gait
well i
well i must not hesitate
i cannot wait
while he dries
my clothes tonight
my head's a cake
some summer heat.
well i hesitate
while i
while i wait
i hesitate
his head's a cake
some summer heat
a melting wait
a melting bait
well ran dry
while i dry
these clothes tonight
the laundry goes and
while i wait
he hesitates
i take the bait
while he works his gait
well i
well i must not hesitate
i cannot wait
while he dries
my clothes tonight
my head's a cake
some summer heat.
indentations.
ding the roofs
you dinged the car
i ding ding ding
answer the door!
dents on your skin
the razor accident
dented minds
demented binds
you in i out
quickly run
fold
and disappear
into your offended bones
i push you farther
you make the gaps
in the place i live
dented binds
demented minds
you dinged the car
and i dinged you.
you dinged the car
i ding ding ding
answer the door!
dents on your skin
the razor accident
dented minds
demented binds
you in i out
quickly run
fold
and disappear
into your offended bones
i push you farther
you make the gaps
in the place i live
dented binds
demented minds
you dinged the car
and i dinged you.
terminal.
go, proceed ahead
you may follow
you may lead
you may speak
plead guilty
you may stand
you may sit
you may now
kiss the bride
you may never
take this together
take with food
before bed
take daily
take twice
take two
take them all
before the fall
before the ache
before the moan
before the sigh
the sigh that sighs
before the echoes
of yes and no's
before the sadness
that dims the lights
before the footsteps
down the hall
before the walk
down the aisle
before you say i do
do you
think
do you
really?
want it all
go, proceed ahead.
you may follow
you may lead
you may speak
plead guilty
you may stand
you may sit
you may now
kiss the bride
you may never
take this together
take with food
before bed
take daily
take twice
take two
take them all
before the fall
before the ache
before the moan
before the sigh
the sigh that sighs
before the echoes
of yes and no's
before the sadness
that dims the lights
before the footsteps
down the hall
before the walk
down the aisle
before you say i do
do you
think
do you
really?
want it all
go, proceed ahead.
"Bob."
his eyes shaded a blur in black trimmed white
capped by red turned back
hair a brown short close
forehead rounded, nose sculpted
head turned and body forward
his legs carry triangles with the ground,
slightly crooked and bent
arms curved with weighted tears of effort
Bob
with his dead bart keychain and another hanging
moved on the street past the yellow, black, white
and Bob
turned to look at me, my machine.
capped by red turned back
hair a brown short close
forehead rounded, nose sculpted
head turned and body forward
his legs carry triangles with the ground,
slightly crooked and bent
arms curved with weighted tears of effort
Bob
with his dead bart keychain and another hanging
moved on the street past the yellow, black, white
and Bob
turned to look at me, my machine.
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