Sunday, December 14, 2008

How Can I Express?

I see you in your car
-your air, your hair, your stare.
I feel you in your street
- your feet, your beat, your cheat.
I hear you in your room -
- your steps, your regrets, your sex.

How can I express,
overwhelmed by your presence?



Stunning black blocks your insecurity,
obsession with your style
represses your troubles.
Spend it all on your look,
that looks like you never looked.

Do everything to get his intention,
then act like your not interested
Interest through desinterest,
oldest trick in the book.

Ode to Giamatti.

A day after today is not enough /Words trick more than they play /Of sparks so sweet and rough / To taste the colors is your way to pray / Your life is bottom shelf / Your booze tops yourself / Crank up the TV / Tear up the books /Create more / be less / never undress / Differ from difference / another Other /The naked leeds the blind / surprise is far behind


There's a beep in static,
that's worth fighting for.

Thought taped tediously.

Nothing's not necessarily nothingness.
Less labor longer lingering!
Radical Rudy reduces randomness.
Sexy Suzie seduces silence.


In a long plastic tube
you trip over your own feet


A race to face;
the goal wants you

The bear is named!
The bear is named!
It bears the same!

Same sex, same flex,
same cheques, same fame,
same failure, same solution.


The tube has an end.
The silver lining was
just reflecting silver.


repetitive words on
repetitive flags.

individuals marching
one by one

flash vote
revolts by mailingslist
emoticons of hate.

in a last gasping breath
the fish yelps:
"pour la solidarité humaine."

I'm Lost for Words.

"Language rules everything"
-says he.
"That's genius!"
-says she.

But what is it worth,
if language fails me?

Thursday, December 4, 2008

Night Out.

To the tune of 80's heartbreak
I drink to understand.

I raise my glass to your mind,
I drown a bottle on your body,
I take a shot on your eyes.

My feet shuffle til they fade.
My hips wiggle til they break.
My hands clap til they're sore.
My voice sings til it's gone.

And at gloomy halogen dawn,
nothing has changed.
Except our ways.