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Description
AKA... Unfinished work.

2008

[one]

          What a perfect sky, perfect water. It is a reflection -  a reminder of what life had been like and what it should be.

          Forever.

          He had lost it all here, but he knew there was only one way for him to get it back. To leave. To run. To get away.

          Anchored in the harbor had been a small, white boat. A sunfish, to be exact. The color of its fresh paint matched the color of the clouds. A drifting cirrus strand, tattered by the air, and heavy with the weight of too many hopeless dreams.

[two]

It is a delicate process.
Powerful, but delicate,
and must be handled with care.

preach, erupt, majestic staircase
mothballs + grandmothers

[three]

"I can push you back."
"Well then push me. Hard, but don't throw me."
"I'll push you, strain you, brutalize you - dammit--"
"You haven't got the heat - no passion, no fire--"
--sst--
"--no life. You've got nothing."

[four]

...I shifted my gaze out the window again - we locked eyes.
I smiled and,
he winked.

[four]

The lightbulb in my bathroom is now a dying star.

[five]

          That summer I spent looking out my favorite window.

          It hadn't rained for twenty-three days.

          We were all worried.

          I would say that the ground had cracked and split like shattered class, however there wasn't anything of the sort here. No, nothing even close. All the natural dirt and grass had been paved over to make more streets, more skyscrapers, more air-conditioned apartments (like the one I'm in now), for more people (like me) to live in.

          It's called Broadway Boulevard. I always found this amusing - how could I not, for this tall complex is nowhere near Broadway, nor is anyone living here talented in even the slightest of ways.

          Nevertheless, on the ninth floor in room 404, to the left of the kitchen and in front of the living room, I sat. The busy yellow taxi-cabs rushing through the slender streets reminded me of little yellow suns - dwarf stars, each giving of far too much heat for our fragile planet to handle.

          How long before it cracks and splits completely? -- Swallowing us whole, with unforgiving, molten jaws.

[five - magnet poetry]
If you don't know what it is, I suggest googling it.

Repulsive and together
Remember the night
Blind and deep
Like you.

+

Morning linger under yesterday
After my question
What wild universe could breathe
                                     throb
                                     blush?

+

Secret from sacrifice
listen
less he be concrete.

+

Spring from her eternity
Lie broken from change
Always current
                     After today.

Description
AKA... Unfinished work.

2008

[one]

          What a perfect sky, perfect water. It is a reflection -  a reminder of what life had been like and what it should be.

          Forever.

          He had lost it all here, but he knew there was only one way for him to get it back. To leave. To run. To get away.

          Anchored in the harbor had been a small, white boat. A sunfish, to be exact. The color of its fresh paint matched the color of the clouds. A drifting cirrus strand, tattered by the air, and heavy with the weight of too many hopeless dreams.

[two]

It is a delicate process.
Powerful, but delicate,
and must be handled with care.

preach, erupt, majestic staircase
mothballs + grandmothers

[three]

"I can push you back."
"Well then push me. Hard, but don't throw me."
"I'll push you, strain you, brutalize you - dammit--"
"You haven't got the heat - no passion, no fire--"
--sst--
"--no life. You've got nothing."

[four]

...I shifted my gaze out the window again - we locked eyes.
I smiled and,
he winked.

[four]

The lightbulb in my bathroom is now a dying star.

[five]

          That summer I spent looking out my favorite window.

          It hadn't rained for twenty-three days.

          We were all worried.

          I would say that the ground had cracked and split like shattered class, however there wasn't anything of the sort here. No, nothing even close. All the natural dirt and grass had been paved over to make more streets, more skyscrapers, more air-conditioned apartments (like the one I'm in now), for more people (like me) to live in.

          It's called Broadway Boulevard. I always found this amusing - how could I not, for this tall complex is nowhere near Broadway, nor is anyone living here talented in even the slightest of ways.

          Nevertheless, on the ninth floor in room 404, to the left of the kitchen and in front of the living room, I sat. The busy yellow taxi-cabs rushing through the slender streets reminded me of little yellow suns - dwarf stars, each giving of far too much heat for our fragile planet to handle.

          How long before it cracks and splits completely? -- Swallowing us whole, with unforgiving, molten jaws.

[five - magnet poetry]
If you don't know what it is, I suggest googling it.

Repulsive and together
Remember the night
Blind and deep
Like you.

+

Morning linger under yesterday
After my question
What wild universe could breathe
                                     throb
                                     blush?

+

Secret from sacrifice
listen
less he be concrete.

+

Spring from her eternity
Lie broken from change
Always current
                     After today.