Sunday, November 27, 2005


fingers of pride
flicking and tickling,
a filthy windowsill's rain trickling

so please make me scalding,
and send that whisper remiss in mist

the trust to silently withold sounds different depending
on the era of the author of the ownly ode

autoimmune wish witch [sic] i am below meteorology with
longer and longer i miss semi-colon marathon runneth on

in those vehement incoherents
remind rewind the digits

Thursday, November 17, 2005

write lane

driving fifty miles an hour, i got cruise control now
please don't speed, so we slow these VOC's
no concentration on driving, just listening to jazz
i've got rear view mirrors today, i see myself coming
in and out of lanes redlining japanese compact
we next to each other in one instant and then
there i go and i watch him go
i am not me or him
i can even ride my bike through
snow like chinamen now