Tuesday, September 8, 2009



Been a minute since I've written here. Let's see:

Same house.
Same job.
No money.
New lady.

Does anyone read this thing?

Also. Anxiety abounds. Behavioral changes. Must be real. Want to share. Why can't I?

The end.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Monday, June 15, 2009

Autumn crisped sweet dripping Indian summer

Dusted the shirts on our backs

Oh Colorado-

The rolling patches

Wheat, thirst bread, fills

Like smoked remains of honey

A plumage; watercolor rust

Blues and dotted reds

Making love in the sky on melting mountaintops

Our muscles filled with acid halfway up

And we summitted, submitted our

Bodies to the wild-

Forestation, ancient language

Molds of a tribe,

We are the natives
Wood. Hard stone electronic circuits

I am the passage of your youth

And the skin beneath your fingernails

Grazing over bulbs and flashing screens

Abright underbelly, character of telegraphic wire

Constant time, use.

We’re connected- copper soldered to empty sockets to assure

a more perfect union

where the brain and the fingertips

intertwine we camp out for hours

teardrop mechanics on sunlight

human motherboards widespread intercontinental consciousness

speaks for our use like a careful person

with a pretend bandage

still barely sticking to skin and metal and bone

we might be further apart than we thought.