visual inventory, a days'worth by shes-a-vamp, literature
Literature
visual inventory, a days'worth
sticky feet on a cold, wood floor,
a gramophone,
wrinkled pink satin,
the pain in the middle of my back,
the dark mirror of a train window at dawn,
the twisting of the intestine,
wetness beneath the arms,
a damp handkerchief,
a cold nose,
spanish, the language, echoing in the back of your head,
italian on a page,
a sweet spliff walking over grates & manholes,
the stocky waddle of a law-enforcer,
the clamor of two hundred phones ringing,
the beige carpet & walls & desktops,
a pencil being sharpened electronically,
its guts flaking into a plastic basin like snowfall,
the cigarette,
the whiskey,
the cigarette,
the
i will send the money tomorrow by shes-a-vamp, literature
Literature
i will send the money tomorrow
i am alone lighting a cigarette outside of City Hall,
alone in the crosswalk, pulling up the collar of my coat around my ears; alone
as march winds blister & scream through the alleys, where the cobble is
crooked & jagged; alone as i drive to my father's house in the green valley;
alone as i kneel to tie my shoe near the river, boiling & brown;
tucked alone beneath piles of blankets, the march winds
creeping in the window.
i will send the money tomorrow, & wait for the warmth of the sun.
through baptizing, thick-scented wine,
these stained lips crack a smile,
shifting boiling muscles writhe 'neath clubbed blue flesh,
knuckles wrapped, waiting, 'round a pen.
the blistered tongue flicks morse suchly:
o wicked muse!
word-revoker!
spare a second of your golden afternoon --
grace my fingers with your honeyed kisses --
make clay from dust,
"june 15th, 2016, june 15th, 2016, june 15th, 2016,"
he repeats & rocks,
transfixed by the swinging pendulum
"april 23rd, 2085, april 23rd, 2085,"
the grinning sage, withdrawn, whispers of the future,
& the pendulum swings.
visual inventory, a days'worth by shes-a-vamp, literature
Literature
visual inventory, a days'worth
sticky feet on a cold, wood floor,
a gramophone,
wrinkled pink satin,
the pain in the middle of my back,
the dark mirror of a train window at dawn,
the twisting of the intestine,
wetness beneath the arms,
a damp handkerchief,
a cold nose,
spanish, the language, echoing in the back of your head,
italian on a page,
a sweet spliff walking over grates & manholes,
the stocky waddle of a law-enforcer,
the clamor of two hundred phones ringing,
the beige carpet & walls & desktops,
a pencil being sharpened electronically,
its guts flaking into a plastic basin like snowfall,
the cigarette,
the whiskey,
the cigarette,
the
i will send the money tomorrow by shes-a-vamp, literature
Literature
i will send the money tomorrow
i am alone lighting a cigarette outside of City Hall,
alone in the crosswalk, pulling up the collar of my coat around my ears; alone
as march winds blister & scream through the alleys, where the cobble is
crooked & jagged; alone as i drive to my father's house in the green valley;
alone as i kneel to tie my shoe near the river, boiling & brown;
tucked alone beneath piles of blankets, the march winds
creeping in the window.
i will send the money tomorrow, & wait for the warmth of the sun.
through baptizing, thick-scented wine,
these stained lips crack a smile,
shifting boiling muscles writhe 'neath clubbed blue flesh,
knuckles wrapped, waiting, 'round a pen.
the blistered tongue flicks morse suchly:
o wicked muse!
word-revoker!
spare a second of your golden afternoon --
grace my fingers with your honeyed kisses --
make clay from dust,
"june 15th, 2016, june 15th, 2016, june 15th, 2016,"
he repeats & rocks,
transfixed by the swinging pendulum
"april 23rd, 2085, april 23rd, 2085,"
the grinning sage, withdrawn, whispers of the future,
& the pendulum swings.
thick alarming red stripe
crossing her chest
a tiremark burn from where the seatbelt
dug deep.
skinsearing friction.
she's got blue eyes cradling two
swollen bags beneath.
a rasp in her lungs
delirium morphine vomiting
bedpan deadpan
sallowfaced unready halfconscious
the roaring speeding redmetal face concaved in an instant -
fast glass exploding on wet pavement
burrowed in the raspberry jam gashes in her palms
boot clacks snap on the ground
fast as fierce eyes darting in the bright sterile white
heart jammed in my neck
in my ears
and just above the pounding
comes the
garbled slowmo sped up horseshit
seeping between the
there is no sweat like the sweat we make together.
it's been a while. i've been neglecting journals since about november, i guess i'm trying to find my way through all of this blindly. in a couple weeks i'm off to colorado to restart, unplug everything, learn a different kind of work, make my body ache until i fall asleep, keep my guitar close and everything else at a distance.
in the past four months or so i have felt so loved. leaving it is difficult, but now that i know what it looks like, what it tastes and smells like, i think i can hold out until august.
nothing has ever felt this right.
I would love to plant even more sunflowers in some patch of earth near that yellow house you live in. I'm sorry I've disappeared for so long... but knowing you were thinking of me made the hideousness of the trip all the more bearable.