bone dry

"a little bit abrasive"
sawdust for skin!
excuse me my rough edges -
but these walls are so thin.
-- folding in so quickly
your palms fill with sores!
a countenance so sickly
revealed to the core.

in the sky

it was not a castle
but simply air
- and the ruby seeds
crushed between teeth
cast no glamours
- there are no shackles
you are free!

watching

penny glistens
bird-boned
counting ridges
thin wrists
blue veined
traces
i follow

who

the husk was left
and papered crackling
smoothed the air -
now the spirit moves -
but can it enter?

on knowing

rusty nails to free
the taste in
lock-jawed palates:
the ring around
knobbed twigs -
brittle and
sanguine
- unfurls

my favorite names

(in recent memory - subject to change):

Nico Muhly

Coincidence that he's also one of my favorite musicians/composers? Probably not.

Which leads me to a rather perplexing and consistent occurrence: Why do all the incredible musicians have absolutely eye(ear)-catching names?

Case in point:
-Kate Bush
-Fiona Apple
-Jeremy Enigk
-Johann Johannson
-Frederic Chopin
-Christian Fennesz
-Olivia Lufkin
-Brian Eno
-Philip Glass
-Steve Swallow
-Carla Bley
-Scoutt Niblett
-Maurice Ravel
-Philip Larkin (ok, poet - no need to nitpick)
-Jozef van Wissem
-Meredith Monk
-Modest Mussorgsky
-Randy Greif
-more I can't think of at the moment

Ok, so most of these people A) are foreign, B) have been dead for several centuries, or C) have pseudonyms. But still. I sometimes wonder if they just woke up one day and -- feeling the crushing weight of their designated monikers-- said to themselves, "I must live up to my name!"

my favorite words

-*unfurl*
-unravel
-insidious
-ephemeral
-austere
-sublime
-dusk

The fact that they all possess some level of atmospheric quality is pure coincidence. Maybe. They're also incredibly fun to pronounce.

theorem

those laws they are so stupid
nearly superstitious in in their wisdom
always falling from their lips
in fleeting colors
please --
be quiet --
it's not for you to say
but the chips always
fall in the same pattern

squeeze

unsettling lush
when those and
these meld so closely
together like they
are one entity
falling into
the black hole
starting at the center
so the last things
to go are the pin pricks
in your eyes;
useless things, anyway
they never worked for
the last year.

an explanation

likened to an act
so impersonally offending
ah, there's a flash of teeth.
acquiescence, she follows -
fibers weaving
disjointed, tangled -
though a thimble
might have been
appropriate

rabid

there's a wounded animal
on every grime-smeared corner,
gnawing incessantly at a
maggot ridden wound,
rotting teeth gnashing
against nearly exposed bone -
and through the red froth,
a smile is always
half cocked:
at some point
it becomes pleasure.

surface

i am standing there across
from you, twisting my hair
into a braided rope

like the lines they send
down to people drowning in
a sea storm's tumbling waves
because they were stupid enough
to defy their constricting pupils

or like cables, taught,
that bring up the skiers
with blue skin, numbed
from being buried in the avalanche
they heard rumbling in their bones

and when i leave to
wash my hands
-- thumb ring-less; i lost it
in another --

i avoid your gaze in the yellow light.
i know already:
the haggard look, slightly
blackened rings that
age and mar
despite nature's deception

i know already:
a glance would make me quake.
so i dip my head
and continue through the swinging doors

buoys

the raft already burst,

bobbing along on choppy waves.

swells of exagerrated motions

made me nauseous,

but i swallowed the rancid

taste of my bile.

dog paddle: before you tire.

soaked before you

realized you were dry.

the sun was gentle, and you

never felt the burning whites of your eyes.

your ship's anchor sits in the stomach,

heavy as a double weighted feather.

water laps into the holes of your ears,

the water-logged sensation aches

and you feel welcomed.

a sinking head,

noticed only through the absence of water, sun-glared.

The Rule of Urizen

-first draft, overhaul imminent

Once, Los reigned supreme
lacing rivers of worlds
through the mind's eye

At half a score of years
half all wonders were spread
through leagues of land and air

Then Urizen rose
the hills grew dry
I settled in a house and counted

Blue once, now full green
this new glass has blown.
Urizen's rule is cruel
but it is the one I know.