Tuesday, January 26, 2010

we smell like other places pt.1

I have these weird cautionary cramps.
they do not say: go.

come on home to green river?

you win some
and youre winsome
handsome precious
and semi pearled in the light cracks
from the disjointed door
where the heat moves out
and the cold crawls along the
treated carpet
and climbs into
limbs and we are stiff
with each other
you are against me
and i am fully asleep
except for my eyes in
the back of my head
board
surveying the landscape.
re-arrange the dark
and moving like a piece of
furniture scratching the surface
of the floor.
floored and finger toured.

mr. prince and i are planning to go to the other side of america
and take a small reprieve amongst redwoods and hops and barley.
but we can plan and plan and a smile tomorrow
could change everything.

it has been awhile since someone radically changed my life.
completely turned me inside out and zipped me back up
into a pet package.

mr. prince did that. he and i pounced upon tons of stationary stability
and fizzy lifting drink and brand new everything in each other's faces.
i still hold his face and think of it naked like those first days. i think of the
firmness of our longhouse and wonder why it is so long and so protective
from the years of mother nature and fates and winds and car crashes and
court cases and skin popping and lording and touting and flume.

so i was wondering if i need something else. i just don't know what i want until
i feel it and it breaks me. wish i was more go ahead more greenlight don't waste time and fright curl. do i need someone (else) to yell at me or hold my shoulders or go skydiving with or plan out an imaginary village with? i am always centering and screaming and redoing and trudging. there are a lot of ands.

i think about the past. like maybe my relatives and how dumb i was to think i owed them myself because we are related. i think about people i fell in love with- some only briefly, some forever in a stagnant dimension i can almost dream about. these people do not care if i get crushed beneath the weight of futures without them. this is why i leave that alone the best that i can. sometimes one gets curious. and it always hurts. this goes for my girlfriends too. three fourths of the people i shared an area code with. actually that does not hurt as much. those people are kind of like glitter residue or drying markers. semi useful, semi beautiful in a contextual light.

now i am thinking about what to do with the rest of my life and maybe i shouldn't. i can never be slight. i can not stand that about myself.

when you make a list of things you admire - some of it should be human. most of it should be. i will lift my own weight by the time we go to l.a.
the last time i went to california- i almost never came back. some of the one fourth is there. something else is there. something is in the woods and i want to be there.

Saturday, January 02, 2010

brisk vibration of wilted teeth roots.

I was paying you a compliment thanks
the walking out in tear soaked
will it freeze to my face drive around
larchmont and appreciate the lights because
what else is there to feel but distraught
and repugnant and glutted and
guttered as if this were fall
which i go back to that song.
that song. and i'm not even trying
and thats why this cute misery is all bundled up
like normal.

if i were going to go over i would jump in with sparklers
and january seems more of a sit silently
with antlers and grown accustomed to the light
pollution
and other pollution of mouths and
whatever else is breeding in the spectrum.

get together when i find someone to grade it.