What a silly little time in a silly little place. A scene of arrogance wafts from china dishes strewn on patio tables, in this snazzy foreign restaurant in my head. I have been nestling quite comfortable in this air of resgination.
a hop
a skip
a jump
away

This is how the noose fits the day. The iron lock slides into its holster and the apartment is covered thinly in silence. The windows frame a dusk reluctant to encroach on the furor of a sleep resistant city. The night seems scared to approach. Its sheepish darkening makes silhouettes of items left around the room, the luggage piled on the table ( Read more... )

With a flick of the fan in hand, I tramp through my own lost city on a hill.

There I am
Behind blue curtains
bleeding in the pocket
with a pencil in the thigh

23words:

Every lost child,
every sad waitress,
every new prostitute,
every plastic fern,
every lost direction,
every last attempt,
everything is my hotel tragedy.

The third day we passed the factory towns. Never near enough to know one another, but close enough for the passerby to see reoccurring themes. The towns weren't dead, but the stop signs outnumbered the populations. Screen doors and a locked hatch protected the dark inhabitants from our curious eyes. Back yards were visible from the street, many ( Read more... )

There are long stretches of empty. Whenever you go long distances, you've got to pass through nothing eventually. Weaving away from towns of ash, we'd find ourselves alone, in the woods, deserts, ands fields. Before long passing through another town where kids move away or find jobs selling tires, staring too long at the freeway in the distance. ( Read more... )

I've sprained my ankle and thus I am out of commission, or have been for a bit. It sure is a pain in the ass. Of course this should provide ample time to get some writing done, as i've said a thousand times over. We'll see what happens. Inspiration anyone?

23words

Shielded, I walk alone, blinded by foolish endeavors.
Like a child's attempt
To spurn
The dangerous need to match eyes with the sun.

Life is too busy. I miss my friends. I miss writing. When I say i'm busy, it's true, and it's a damned shame.