Category: North America
The sun plays on the fronds of the ferns, the ones which frame the courtyard in dappled glitters of sweet breeze through palm. Light dribbles lucidly across the cobblestones, a symphony of pigeon toes scuttling across stones with nails like safety pins. The barista has her fingers twisting through her hair and sex on the mind.
Once here, I let out a long breath ; the sound thuds dully against the window pane which streams in sunlight from a morning mister. The sound from my breath outweighs the sounds of diggers and cranes from the site on the other side of Seaside Avenue.
I keep my eyes open when I look at you. Your lips read: espresso for here, please & my fingertips tap against the plastic screen & I slide it to you with my eyes open. You criss-cross your skin, diagramming the name you’ve owned for years, & before you leave for the corner table, you reach deep into your pockets. I’ve met you before– … Read More Visions
Praise be the autonomous who sit, crumped upright in a land of red Mountains. The ones who eat, food dripping from loose corners, at a table of stone, who lay, facedown on beds of Earth shards, listening hard for the rare sound
Dance dark against the moonlight shadows; the dust will take you deeper– digging down to shaded levels of acrid denial tasting like dental floss. Dance light upon the meadow tresses; the sunbeam spotlights like braided rope. Fading numbness from the fingers out and suffice to say– the world takes hold.
If the hair on your head heightens and heightens, enlarging like the alarmed housecat frazzled by herself– and if the clouds that swim between the curling ferns of our sister, Mountain, swimming like ancient phantom-mermaids, reach toward us– and if the lizards, brown and green, with knowing grins and lithe bodies, dart and scale the box air conditioner that bulges from outside the … Read More Non-Complexity
What I yearn for—like you—is a just a notch of catastrophe. Rising up from the soul like pewter rainbows, swimming golden lead, funny and relevant all at the same time—catastrophe. Secret substance of hope, infectious balance; if nothing’s broken it’s all boring. Boredom is safe, too secure. Too responsible. So predictable. Left handle of balance, tipped so easily in this modern day of … Read More Credo