September 2010

reporting on the condition of being human (in america) to the home planet: September

while the nail biting meat is sufficiently occupied, those who have electrostimulated their unmentionables will assume the lotus position and levitate for entry. don’t worry: the few witnesses will likely be written off by uncolorfuls as white-light purple-shroud finger-twirl-by-the-temple acid-popping sky-is-falling psychonauts, or rambling hyperactive unmedicated children in need of a time-out and an older, more glasses-wearing therapist. In the morning those uncolorfuls code crazy will simply be gone. Poof.

Two Crows, 2:36AM (1)

2:36AM Two crows on the fence, waiting. They tell me: Listen. I do. Listen harder. Am I dreaming? No. Perfect. Listen. Fine. Triple-lock the door. I peak through the blinds. Two crows on the fence. Still waiting. Caw. Do humans turn crow as purgatory, trapped observing the living with their kind-of-a-funny-stories and toddlers tied to …

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Cut Up September

If there’s one thing Uncle Bill taught us, it’s to never number pages. a shrinking device and a shirt pocket will make me warmer. so many hearts undocumented, unheard by my alien recording devices ever hunting for a human who purrs. . Orange striped cat lying dead in the road, a ring of bowed heads …

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love (1)

The house will never be clean unless we can afford a maid service, and we’ll only eat when we both remember to (not often), and we’ll both pull away just when we achieve perfect closeness and you’ll accuse me of getting the wrong cat food on purpose and I’ll say you know that’s a sore …

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