Hey my lover egg lustful sweeties of the dust I love your nightway

December 29, 2012 >>>>>> Comments

i think i need surgery to remove the little monster inside my head

i swear every other thought is the little monster’s thought

the little monster is poking holes in my head

draining me of everything

i can’t even remember a damn thing because of the intrusion of doubt

i do not trust myself and i’ve said so many stupid things

it seems like i can’t go back

i quit, okay. 

June 22, 2012 >>>>>> Comments   1 note   

The morning after you died

What would it be like

I stepped out into the world

In your absence

The door is the opening created by


You open it

Step down from the curb

Into the street looking around

The dew on the grass

Catches the light

Everything, silent and still

I walk the sidewalk

To the pond

Without you this pond is new

Not the pond we walked passed every day

On the way to my house

To fuck and watch cartoons while nobody was home

It’s the season of pink helicopter seeds

That swirl through the wind when blown off the trees

Spiraling downward to meet dirt or concrete

The surface of the lake is covered with red pods

They probably won’t be the ones

that take.


So this is the world after you.

Your death created an opening—a new world.

And it’s not the world I knew with you.

I miss your theme song, the melody that would gather

Around your head like a swarm of flies

I miss the way you’d nod your head in the sunlight

Like the sun was the song and you were inside it


So this is the world in your absence

A morning

Apocalyptic morning stillness

Your death

Pushes you into everything

I step into the field

Low fog caught

around the bottom of the fence

Like the fence was a sea-net testing

The air. And you

You’re the drop of water on

the blade of grass I nearly stomped


Translucent orb of h2o

Caught in the stare of the sun

Shooting light into the ether

Do you go with the light?

Riding the beam into the sky

At the crest of your grief

I saw you ascend

Saw the uniformed men below

With trumpets

Waiting till you were out of view

To wail.

We all wailed that morning.


It’s the morning after you died

Today rises up out of the ashes of

Your effort, all the trying energy and

Pieces of your body broken up

Am I to grieve in the world

Without you

Another world, by whose rules do I


Am I suppose to feel your absence as

The essence of this morning?

I came into today with questions

Only to learn that consolation

is the absence of thinking.


After she died

The woman my ex-boyfriend married when I dumped him

After she died my little brother said

At the funeral he seemed totally fine

Was laughing with his friends and everything.

I told him

I said

It sometimes takes time

For the living to understand the dead as dead

For dead to assimilate into the new world


The morning after you died

I felt jilted

As the piano does in Vienna

when falling out of a window

5 stories high

You left a new world in your wake

Forced me to live in it

And figure out

How to be okay

Time moves at a different pace here

I had to learn

I had to figure out what it means

For a day to pass

And for time

To keep passing

While I stand

Somewhere else

Beside you in a thought

You in your red shirt, shoes untied

Somewhere else

Where ought I be, I did not know

I had to learn


I forced myself to type


I’m here now

Suddenly placed

The strength of my HERE

Jolts the table

And a cloud of ash bursts

Out of a ceramic urn 


The present moment

Rises up out of the ruins

Of my cluttered bio-circuitry


The cloud rises


Filling every crevice

The space between the pages and spine

Of all the books covered hard

Filled so completely

No space for your time-travel tricks

Projecting yourself endlessly

Into the past and the future

Until the morning after you died

Collides with now

And from the wreck emerges

your last thought.

Be where you are

May 6, 2012 >>>>>> Comments   1 note   

March 15, 2012 >>>>>> Comments   1 note   


March 7, 2012 >>>>>> Comments

a place to be true.

once a place becomes untrue you must leave

it was like i fell out of the universe and all my memories and the soul of friends remained in a cloud where i was not. so the face of bett, but without my center i did not know what it meant. a face i’ve seen recently. and then the faces came and i wondered, how do i know so many people? nothing to relate the string of faces to. strung like beads but whose necklace is this? the one who was erased. everything starts out a statement, ends up a question because the farther i go into the sentence i realize, i don’t know.. i .don’t know why i came here. how i got here. i’m on stage, awkwardly lit, i turn and tell everyone, you can go home now. go home. my sadness isn’t even mine today. my sadness is a face on the necklace meant for me, but the crack in the sky ate me. this necklace of faces i know is for whoever wants to wear it today. send me your address and i’ll mail you somebody’s sadness.

the problem was always

i need to wake up outside more often

maybe every day

i want to be a launch woman

soon i will not be on the internet

i just want to sleep outside with friends

must call steve ask him for anarchy sailor times

maria sabina:

Because I can swim in the immense
Because I can swim in all forms
Because I am the launch woman
Because I am the sacred opposum
Because I am the Lord opposum
I am the woman Book that is beneath the water, says
I am the woman of the populous town, says
I am the shepherdess who is beneath the water, says
I am the woman who shepherds the immense, says
I am a shepherdess and I come with my shepherd, says
Because everything has its origin
And I come going from place to place from the origin…

March 7, 2012 >>>>>> Comments

since there are people here i want to treat you who are here.

i will write here what i am afraid to write in other places

i may have to change the url name. 

i’ll write you things like

chicken bone, all alone

on the ground. who gives a shit about philosophy?

chicken bone ain’t got no home 

her mother was her home and now she’s dead


homeless chicken bone on the streets

looking for a body

March 6, 2012 >>>>>> Comments   2 notes   

hi is anyone here

February 29, 2012 >>>>>> Comments   3 notes   

we cant wait to gain entrance to the—what? the taiping rebellion could have taken place inside us, we as our fanatic wing nut leader who, given the pamphlet, sees big vision that could change the world. as jesus’s little brother we wore our hair long. changmao. i was weakened and ill—i failed the imperial examinations 5 times and i lost my shit that last time. my brother said, here, why don’t you read thiss? maybe it’s a bad idea to make someone who is delusional ill and full of resentment read a christian pamphlet because then he thinks, i’m god’s baby bro. we bring china into the future…as christians.

we are the guerilla christian aarmy ! fanatics to the core! down with the corrupt Manchus! we are Han subgroup. hakka. line up snazzily dressed in red coats and blue pants we are warriors of our illness hallucincation, which will be so compelling that well go to war with the Qing emperor and 20 million will end up dead. well, not only from battle but our dirty play—burning the crops to really weaken and get the point across. some stupid missionary’s pamphlant killed a shit load of people. kill the missionary of the mind, who knows what you want, but what do you want? not t o be a christian but some of us want to be christians if it means not being Confucian and not buddhist. actuslly, must of them just despise the manchus. we want the qing dynasty to fall. that’s a very modern idea you’ve got theerererererer. in your sky there is mao looking and praising the brave souls who fought during the taiping rebellion. mao! we woulda rebelled againsy you too he wanted to bring christian pamphlets to you and you wouldn’t have liked that.   but in our eyes—-this crazy man, he is the beginning of modern china. modern china begins with a crazy man and a vision of being god’s sibling and killing the emperor. we love your whacko vision which is the crux of our great nation. so love me. i do. don’t even doubt it. i wont. you will and you do. brits get their opium burned and cry. you and your opium should get out out otutout ! chinese people are pissed, the brits keep trying to weaken us with sneak trading and opium. they want us all drugged so we’re easier to be colonizd. i’ll show the fuckers!!!! rise up. burn the opium. 1/3 of our men are opium addicts and the brits want more. the brits are using India to grow shit they use against us, they want us drugged so they can trade and trade and conquer and according to the treaty send chinese people to the united states as indentured servants. the opium wars were whack. kill the british generals.  they’ll get so pissed they’ll piss on our summer palace, burn it down. they almost went for the forbidden city. how much did they take? doesn’t matter now because it’s turned into tourist kitsch… isnt there a starbucks down the street?    mao, i saw ya. your embalmed dead body. pinky in the skin i saw you behind the glass and everyone was quiet…shhhh. … we turned off our cellphones and moved around you, behind the rope and glasss walking slowly in silence like an attaction at a theme park we were all looking at you. at the base of your stone statue the people laid the flowers. do you like it like this? it was during the beijing olympics. whitepeople everywhere. would you have liked them looking at you, and then buying a messenger bag with your face because you are a commodity to them…a funny icon devoid of contextual meaning? they don’t know the meaning of you but that’s okay.

i did my silence so i could have this memory.

July 21, 2011 >>>>>> Comments

alien abduction // skin suit // butter revival

June 22, 2011 >>>>>> Comments