8484848

I heard birds talking
moaning
hungry for love

I was hungry once
eating hearts ripped
of fire
in a mild way


But now
always  deep sounds
that stir the unheard voices
are closed off to the outer branches

am i the only
thesperate -
desperately set in
hardening
trying out some a new  camouflage

.

taking off

first must
I look up
the definition of a star

 I've come back to my old space
with the willies by my side -
but to be like water
must I first study
the reflection in the water

the reflection in the water          ( picture this line  upside down)

.

Z broken Rock Story

She spoke  and  stars fell

into the lake's wide opening
that stretched  old wrinkled moon

and  glitter in her eyes
 the soft breaking waves

  .... heart pounds....


 No results found for " a broken rock is just smaller"


.

I am bing nation

an amicable separation
I had been with google for a long time

 bye goog , hello bing


..

i wonder

is it enough to say
the dried up land
will vanish
and
no one can save
anything you ever keep

Raise up your fist
fighting will eventually vanish

I'm done.

.....

lazy dog wedding

it doesn't need
to be a hit
what's one more
pock mark to the moon
 
so we hatch
and live where we are
as we were
like a good imagination  
at issue with advice

a wire pulled from insulation
living the collapse of breath
like a patient at a drag show
giving to the need to continue



..

The Never WIll

"the sky speaks it language through tree branch..."
said the said Monkey
to the Camel
" tree branch
beggars in the sky"

And I overheard  earby Duck whisper
"no one else must ever know. "
and  I don't know why







.

August and counting

daybreak in your world
evening in mine
and all that lies between us
is a word
we pretend
not to see
in our sleep


but don't look now
the sensation
from turning
your head could
be fatal

....

a truth about here and now

moved by shadows
not love
through circumstances

even knowledge
pressed with promise
full of  what I see living my life
with fingers
and teeth


into all that
is and  isn't
  misunderstood

..

Six times six is thirty six

a  slow time rushes into my nerves
past the black around flames
and fills my consciousness with invisible light

In Sacred communal ultrasonic fields
an intimacy found with empty space

.

summer story

Yellow and black
apple and pick a
winter
between our fingers
like place moves a story
layered the bottom way down

feet planted
silently through the
unreachable
verb


.

feeding the cats

I don't do  much anymore
but that doesn't mean I'm "still" crazy
( which of course I am)
 I don't mind roaming
room to room thinking about
how much I hate myself and laughing



.