Stones slumber under rushing water,
Shaped by current cemented by time,
Onyx spots that sunlight conquers,
Brings me into the river to dive,
Hands are full of worthless pebbles,
Still I offer them to you,
Eyes are full of wonder,
I will do what I can do.
Greener grass is fostered by the fence,
Where barbed wire was laid by hand,
Wood rots where the chicory grows,
Brings me to rusty metal and I bend,
Scraped fingers stain blue flowers,
Still I offer them to you,
Eyes are full of wonder,
I will do what I can do.
Telephone poles watch us walking,
Piled by men but worn by rain,
Tar glistens as it drips down,
Brings me to their
Rise from the feathers and dust,
Go fill the old brass bucket,
Head to shores of Glass Lake,
Fill the bucket,
Dont ask me questions,
I wont answer you anyway,
On the shores of Glass Lake,
Where you find your fate.
Leave your foot prints in the cold sand,
Take up the hems of your dress,
Walk the lapping water,
Take up your dress,
You can look at me with soft eyes,
I will push your hair away,
On the shores of Glass Lake,
Where you find your fate.
Ask your daddy for a dowry,
Then I will take your hand,
Well marry at Glass Lake,
I will take your hand,
Your choice is not easy,
I still believe you much pick,
I, whilst you slept, was awake and watching the sunrise,
I, felt you next to me, what are you dreaming about?
Where am I going?
I cannot see where I came from.
You, do all your talking, with your eyes and your smile,
You, put your hand in mine, I am happy if just for awhile,
Where am I going?
I cannot see where you came from.
We, our energies expended, find these sheets our home,
We, connect physically, you know my arms are there to sleep on.
Where am I going?
I cannot see where we came from.
I, while youre staring, ponder what this is about,
I, as you touch me, feel too lucky to continue,
Where am I going?
I cannot see w
I could describe her,
In every detail,
In every light,
From avenue to avenue,
Through the night,
I would relive that flight,
To feel that evening wind.
I could touch her,
If only she were here,
If only I was there,
From bar to bar,
Ive looked everywhere,
I would do anything and not care,
To feel that evening wind.
Life is easiest,
Without a thought,
Without a direction,
From which to stray,
But it is no kind of protection,
If you cannot get the connection,
To feel that evening wind.
Take this message,
To your heart,
To your grave too,
From the truth do not run,
It will always follow you,
The night remembers wha
What sweet delusion choice,
To dream that we, in our mortality,
We are captains of fate,
That we are not steered uncaringly by an indifferent boatman.
We wake with ideas in greater numbers than time,
The day unwinds until the spool is sprung,
We find the light gone and our dreams exsanguinated,
How carry you to sleep?
Does your pillow not stab at you?
Is your bed of spirit and herb?
Perhaps a lovers arm brings peace,
Do you slumber at all?
While some bask in the new day,
I find only loathing the golden light,
I take offense that it spreads over my skin,
It is my bane today and upon the morrow,
If another day I have to li
Oh, Susie, wont you,
Come a-walkin with me,
The moon is so fine tonight,
The stars are shining on the sea.
Oh, Johnny, I wont go,
Walking in that fine moonlight,
My heart is for someone else,
And stars they are shining just for him and me.
Oh, Susie, wont you,
Come hand holdin with me,
The breeze is fresh as the dawn,
The sun is a-breakin over that horizon.
Oh, Johnny, I wont go,
Hand-in-hand with you,
His name is on the wind,
I see his face in the sun.
Oh, Susie, wont you,
Come dancing with me,
The music is playing for us,
The floor is clean come on Susie.
Oh, Johnny, I won&
These wings that I believed glowed with white feathers,
When put before the mirror are leathery and stretched taught across jagged bone,
The halo that I believed I wore is not but a pair of wretched horns,
Gentle smile is borne fangs that await their next strike,
My nature is not of the light but of the shadow.
Blue eyes search in their hunger for a new course,
Filthy fingers dig through the dirt pulling my scorched form,
Burned from the light of day shed upon myself by a tug of the curtain,
Skin smolders cooled only by the fury within,
Soothed roughly by the darkness falling from the horizon.
I have no pretense to offer at the feet
The tide comes up around her,
She stares out to sea,
She aint waiting for her baby,
She aint waiting there for me.
Her mouth opens to the air,
Salty scents run to her lungs,
She voices deepest thoughts,
Not to me or anyone.
Id feel hollow,
If I felt anything at all,
It has been twenty-five years,
If I had it to do over,
I would just lose everything again.
Back toward the boardwalk,
Music pours over the wood,
Breathy women and passed crooners,
Reach her ears beneath her hood.
She looks up to the sky,
For an answer that wont come,
Her knees are in the water,
Her heart has already sunk.
Stones slumber under rushing water,
Shaped by current cemented by time,
Onyx spots that sunlight conquers,
Brings me into the river to dive,
Hands are full of worthless pebbles,
Still I offer them to you,
Eyes are full of wonder,
I will do what I can do.
Greener grass is fostered by the fence,
Where barbed wire was laid by hand,
Wood rots where the chicory grows,
Brings me to rusty metal and I bend,
Scraped fingers stain blue flowers,
Still I offer them to you,
Eyes are full of wonder,
I will do what I can do.
Telephone poles watch us walking,
Piled by men but worn by rain,
Tar glistens as it drips down,
Brings me to their
Rise from the feathers and dust,
Go fill the old brass bucket,
Head to shores of Glass Lake,
Fill the bucket,
Dont ask me questions,
I wont answer you anyway,
On the shores of Glass Lake,
Where you find your fate.
Leave your foot prints in the cold sand,
Take up the hems of your dress,
Walk the lapping water,
Take up your dress,
You can look at me with soft eyes,
I will push your hair away,
On the shores of Glass Lake,
Where you find your fate.
Ask your daddy for a dowry,
Then I will take your hand,
Well marry at Glass Lake,
I will take your hand,
Your choice is not easy,
I still believe you much pick,
I, whilst you slept, was awake and watching the sunrise,
I, felt you next to me, what are you dreaming about?
Where am I going?
I cannot see where I came from.
You, do all your talking, with your eyes and your smile,
You, put your hand in mine, I am happy if just for awhile,
Where am I going?
I cannot see where you came from.
We, our energies expended, find these sheets our home,
We, connect physically, you know my arms are there to sleep on.
Where am I going?
I cannot see where we came from.
I, while youre staring, ponder what this is about,
I, as you touch me, feel too lucky to continue,
Where am I going?
I cannot see w
I could describe her,
In every detail,
In every light,
From avenue to avenue,
Through the night,
I would relive that flight,
To feel that evening wind.
I could touch her,
If only she were here,
If only I was there,
From bar to bar,
Ive looked everywhere,
I would do anything and not care,
To feel that evening wind.
Life is easiest,
Without a thought,
Without a direction,
From which to stray,
But it is no kind of protection,
If you cannot get the connection,
To feel that evening wind.
Take this message,
To your heart,
To your grave too,
From the truth do not run,
It will always follow you,
The night remembers wha
What sweet delusion choice,
To dream that we, in our mortality,
We are captains of fate,
That we are not steered uncaringly by an indifferent boatman.
We wake with ideas in greater numbers than time,
The day unwinds until the spool is sprung,
We find the light gone and our dreams exsanguinated,
How carry you to sleep?
Does your pillow not stab at you?
Is your bed of spirit and herb?
Perhaps a lovers arm brings peace,
Do you slumber at all?
While some bask in the new day,
I find only loathing the golden light,
I take offense that it spreads over my skin,
It is my bane today and upon the morrow,
If another day I have to li
Oh, Susie, wont you,
Come a-walkin with me,
The moon is so fine tonight,
The stars are shining on the sea.
Oh, Johnny, I wont go,
Walking in that fine moonlight,
My heart is for someone else,
And stars they are shining just for him and me.
Oh, Susie, wont you,
Come hand holdin with me,
The breeze is fresh as the dawn,
The sun is a-breakin over that horizon.
Oh, Johnny, I wont go,
Hand-in-hand with you,
His name is on the wind,
I see his face in the sun.
Oh, Susie, wont you,
Come dancing with me,
The music is playing for us,
The floor is clean come on Susie.
Oh, Johnny, I won&
These wings that I believed glowed with white feathers,
When put before the mirror are leathery and stretched taught across jagged bone,
The halo that I believed I wore is not but a pair of wretched horns,
Gentle smile is borne fangs that await their next strike,
My nature is not of the light but of the shadow.
Blue eyes search in their hunger for a new course,
Filthy fingers dig through the dirt pulling my scorched form,
Burned from the light of day shed upon myself by a tug of the curtain,
Skin smolders cooled only by the fury within,
Soothed roughly by the darkness falling from the horizon.
I have no pretense to offer at the feet
The tide comes up around her,
She stares out to sea,
She aint waiting for her baby,
She aint waiting there for me.
Her mouth opens to the air,
Salty scents run to her lungs,
She voices deepest thoughts,
Not to me or anyone.
Id feel hollow,
If I felt anything at all,
It has been twenty-five years,
If I had it to do over,
I would just lose everything again.
Back toward the boardwalk,
Music pours over the wood,
Breathy women and passed crooners,
Reach her ears beneath her hood.
She looks up to the sky,
For an answer that wont come,
Her knees are in the water,
Her heart has already sunk.
Appendix
ix
Clarity
Just say what you mean,
I remind myself,
as I gaze into the abyss
that comes after the ellipses
where the words left unsaid,
which can merely be guessed,
flap their hands or shrug their shoulders.
I want to tell you a story,
nothing more, nothing less,
but how many things have I not told you
because Id have to rewrite myself?
xiii
Mendacity
The writer awakes
under the weight of stardust,
groping in the dark for impossible things,
stumbling over a sleeping dog
and falling into a pile of feces --
rolling in it,
making mudpies out of it,
chewing it, swallowing it
and spewing out
bri
The tide comes up around her,
She stares out to sea,
She aint waiting for her baby,
She aint waiting there for me.
Her mouth opens to the air,
Salty scents run to her lungs,
She voices deepest thoughts,
Not to me or anyone.
Id feel hollow,
If I felt anything at all,
It has been twenty-five years,
If I had it to do over,
I would just lose everything again.
Back toward the boardwalk,
Music pours over the wood,
Breathy women and passed crooners,
Reach her ears beneath her hood.
She looks up to the sky,
For an answer that wont come,
Her knees are in the water,
Her heart has already sunk.
Current Residence: New York, NY Favourite genre of music: None really...I just hate country and modern \ Favourite photographer: That guy... Favourite style of art: Chocolate Finger Painting Operating System: Kubuntu MP3 player of choice: iPod Favourite cartoon character: Brock Sampson (Venture Bros.)
...You are still discriminating.
We had reached a point in recent history where I was starting to feel positively about the United States. Our newly elected president is not causing catastrophic fail, unless you are a staunch conservative or someone who has no idea how the economy actually works, our efforts in the middle east seem to be doing something that in a change of direction is not completely bad, and the economy has started to clot where some of the larger wounds were previously bleeding.
I felt especially good when it was announced that Iowa had decided to recognize gay marriage and the rights contained therein. I never question
So the father of Rubina Ali put a 300,000 USD price tag on his daughter. I am only moderately surprised and only marginally disgusted.
I wonder if Angelina and Madonna will get into a bidding war...
I love Hugh Jackman, officially, I want to be gay and marry him but I am straight and he would be out of my league anyway.
That aside:
Had the academy bent over much more to suck their own dick they would have fallen off the chair and broken their neck. Trust me, that could happen, not that I have tried I just am just guessing. Seriously, they are actors and actresses, professional liars, and live such squishy lives that they felt compelled to give unwarranted awards to Slumdog Millionaire. It was a very good movie but it was just as seeded with unnecessary sap as The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. The entire movie just made me wonder