17 December, 2008

what a 1st draft looks like

freewriting the hunt

in hand
unhanded &

got away

all of them
journals or
films recalled

long gone, yet
real enough, at least
until waking

cheap 12-pack
& politics
to kiss them off

revenge enough
& construct
decoys, my outer selves. I’m sick

of love
, Bob sings
but in
the thick of it
. Yes.

You will lose. We are born
into it, the losing
to learn

to paraphrase
overquoted Nietsche
like some college kid in black

when I was 22 & thought
I was hot shit
w/my band & all my other

quasi bile
I digress. I don’t have time to parenthesize
this aside. I’m getting tired.

I feel better.
There will be others.

11 December, 2008

lyrics/ yeah?

(I normally don't do this, but wtf? here are some 1st-drafts for a new tune)

breakup song '8

I has Johnson's "Love in Vain"
I meets ladies on the train
I is me here, I is sane
I's an artist, I feels pain

& I's alright; you won't hear I complain, luv
& I gets tight & even the best wine leaves a stain


o, yeah, go there, take I's home
I is orphans, rolling stones
back on the pavement, tumbleweed jones
god-sent parliament spike into the to the bone


find I quietly on the fringe
dirt on I's fingers, mouthfulla minge
binge I singe I sleeps alone & whinge
heartbreak, housebreak, jailbreak hinge

of a thigh & I's alright ...


01 December, 2008

pre-dawn birthday haiku

snow stuck to cars, hard
sugar to frost my waking.
embedded footprints/tire-tracks.