I could get scared of traffic lights, with their clear, direct orders concerning the advancement of movement. I am down some end of the visible spectrum as though awaiting confirmation that I even exist while meteorically fast cars pass by me and sometimes over me ( Read more... )

Back from Miami in a seriously non-invasive flash of light ( Read more... )

Even in the coal mines, I wouldn’t get this blue. Just sucked up oxygen and electricity to keep me looking dull. Like knife blade heart attacks and vintage leather knob handles. Give me strength ( Read more... )

How bleeding the days seem to get the longer I put off doing anything. So, what to do. Going to Miami next weekend. Is that possible? Surely not me, but of course it is what I’m doing. Dreary bones will be packed inside me and transported to South Beach. Did I mention it’s me that’s going ( Read more... )

I don’t like the things I’m not supposed to like. I stare into three-way mirrors looking for the traffic lights. Animal shapes command my attention. I flick through my Zippo looking for the right spark. I can drink all night because tomorrow I’ll be thirsty ( Read more... )

Sometimes there is a limit. And I can’t tell why it arrives when it does.

The shadow form is pressed up against the window and letting sunlight streak through its unhinged fingers, dissolving the dark in suicide sunshine ( Read more... )

( Read more... )

In useless observance of manual labour, I pulled an abdominal muscle last week that put me on my back and prostituting my pain for kindness. Other than that the weekend was uneventful ( Read more... )

Last night we began our new discography project. I ripped 139 tracks that we’ve recorded, and Heath tells me there are another 25-50 that he’s got that I don’t. And we have yet to go all the way back and start compiling our tapes (actual Maxell tapes) onto disc. Rather than making me feel proud, this large number of songs I’ve helped to write and ( Read more... )