where does he get all those words. of pain and beauty. of hurt and hunger and life. i love his words. and his vibe. i want to speak like he does.

when i write. i feel stupid sometimes.

when did i get so bizarre? and boy crazy? i think it's becoming problematic. probably not. i need to sit outside or something. too little air in my library. the books are sucking all the air. i'm not in the library now so i don't really know what i'm talking about. i'm thinking about books breathing. i saw books burning. but they weren't breathing ( Read more... )

riding bikes on the flat South Bend roads. doing sun salutations in narrow hotel hallways. the best sleep I've had in a long time. troubled man yelling obscenities at passing cars. trash-talking sisters and a weird uncle giving away fake souvenirs. swimming in Potato Creek with heavy winds. working on a song about the girl who always wears a turtle ( Read more... )

and i also forgot that i saw that man again. more lively than has ever been viewed by my eyes. not even really lively just alive. he sat on a bench - same clothes as always - speaking or sitting with two other "ones" about who knows what. i wish i could sit there. but i just drive by. a viewer. witness. i don't think he is happy. maybe content. i ( Read more... )

can we sit in silence and listen to beautiful music while driving in the dark? i will be your passenger. and maybe navigate the journey. i won't know where to go either. i might lead us somewhere new. somewhere far away. and it will be lovely. the wind will devour the awkwardness of our thoughts. we will feel no need to speak. i won't ask you hard ( Read more... )

i saw him today. he was in a different form. the same skin, but different motion. he was up and about not frozen in posture. somehow he was clean shaven. standing in the aisle speaking phrases inaudible to me. is he possessed by great spirits and protected from harm? i stood not far behind him watching too intently. he surely knew i was there. he ( Read more... )

why can't i just sing out what i want to sing? am i scared to share or do i not really believe in what i'm saying? do my thoughts not describe myself but someone i believe to be? ugh ( Read more... )

it's been too long.
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it's all a lie it's all a lie. i'll tell you what you're seeing.

that's not right that's not right. tell me what you're feeling.

--the great illusion--

soon they'll all get bored. they'll remember then.

he let me down often. and he was a bird. always admiring his wings in the sun. curled up in the grass. it may be feminine pains or a heavy heart hanging low in my stomach. tethered to a single tube. i want to forget the bird trapped in my rib cage ( Read more... )