When I was a kid (and sometimes still), i could reach and touch the walls (and the ceiling) from my sheeted bed - although this was impossible. And then, with an advance unstoppable, my bed, the ceiling and the walls could all be touching me. And somewhere still there was (and is) the thrill of … Continue reading although this was impossible.
some things [take a long time to stick] plus some things [take a long time to slip] equals something, something, something... alive to give
divide the cities east to west grid the country until all that is left are sad children behind radiators tired women in empty churches grumpy old men retelling stories well, barely anecdotes.
she hands me a book and i say, i will return this someday (it's a line that people often phrase). i know that i won't, but i will lift her from the margin and the page and return the gift in different ways. i barely recall the tale's name but her hand, her footnotes, her annotation … Continue reading note to self.
if i can, with a glance, find focus in this disarray, it may be in the raising of the glass that we sip or your eyes as they lift to mine, gazing on your lips smiling and dismayed.
calendar (...always x) painted sponge electrical wire & foam trees rug grass marmalade glue model (model's own :))