I get off the streetcar. A young punk in shredded jeans and a black t-shirt, pins stuck through his earlobes, is pissing against the wall of a store. His girlfriend squats beside him, picking at her teeth with a single, black-painted nail. I walk into the Market. A young girl with thick dreds passes on a bike, the right side of her bare leg badly ( Read more... )

“Yeah. What’s it of?” She came closer, put her small hands on my arm, drew her fingers over the tatooo. “It doesn’t hurt does it?” She squinted. “No, it’s healed. You know what it reminds me of? That time we went to see that exhibit while we were in Osaka. What was the name of that artist ( Read more... )

She took me back to her appartment. The lights were off, and she didn't bother turning them on. Silent, she took off her shoes, left them stranded in the narrow hall, led me into through the kitchen and into the bedroom. Her window was open; a car drove by, and someone was talking in Chinese on the street. She took off her clothes, let them fall in ( Read more... )

We went back to my appartment for a long night of shadows and skin. It was emotional and then it was tiring - eventually, she fell asleep next to me. I was exhausted, but couldn’t let go of consciousness. I lay awake in bed watching car headlights reflected on the ceiling, listened to her breathing against my neck. She stirred occassionally, ( Read more... )

“This is a good place,” he said ( Read more... )

movement in the world,
mine own, reflecting others'.
where are we going?

nothing

drink, walk, talk, smoke, fuck.
all of it, everything done,
leads back to nothing.

a girl is crying
right next to me, on the train:
it's wrong to hug her.

work hard to please me.
work hard - maybe it will work.
you work for my smile.

well last friday got a little crazy. hella crazy. so i didn't get to do any more 'theme-based' haikus. so i'd like to pick that up again today.

ii) nothingness

a spiral is drawn.
it grows, ever larger, from an empty center.