the stars, the sea, and sleep.

Thursday, May 10, 2012

Day 120: Black Shiners

Reheated and as stale as the day before
That pre-summer heat was closing the distance between
Your breaths and the floor
My best and what I swore I would never be
After everything that I had been.
Now everything stuck to my skin
As I surrendered any gesture
That could be fed off of, to you.
What wanted to be true solidified in thin air
As satisfying as the haze that enveloped the cityscape.
I couldn't breathe; I loosened the cape and retired the man I made.
A noose around the nape swallowing the venom of a snake.

Sunday, May 6, 2012

Day 116: Quesafajitadillas

Wake up for another normal breakfast
My favorite kind of normal
That I pretend you always hate in jest
And prebend these rubber plates imressed
Against your hot face of a concrete boardwalk
Chasing the sun onto the front porches
Of Owners of Porsches and those more fortunate
Toes creeping close to what had gone
To where the water treated beneath the sand
The shorline fit between my hands
To get a better grip on this sandslip perspective
To burn the papers of the advance directive
While teachers in an apartment being students of tonight
Put two parts of a circle into three parts of a sky.