Hun,my monitor’s gone and let its smoke out,‘n this ozone smell’s filled the air,‘n I’ve got molten plastic stringing from fingertips. the shut-down, the giving-up,there ain’t a reboot from that.We’re not runnin’ from drive, that’s smoked out too,just us and whatever’s left in the fast-fading RAM.Won’t be long ’til it just stops… There ain’t a …
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Untitled #653 (2014)
Love, let’s strip it bare and look at the source-code of this for a bit.My criticism, like any, is some slopped attempt at differed self-awareness.[“most common in interpersonal criticism is the focus on attributes one finds unsatisfactory in oneself” *Strain, Dippel, et al.]So, you’re absolutely absolut, with that full on 80 proof vodka bite,and me …
Untitled #580 (2014)
mikeyj529: stephentkennedy: mikeyj529: stephentkennedy: Synapses fire with a war-for-cheap chatter,that self-same discharge that plasma chars air to vacuum.and those fires keep rising,and them flood waters are rising,but you, you’re ether bound, and damn if that sound don’t just R E …
Untitled #579 (2014)
mikeyj529: stephentkennedy: Synapses fire with a war-for-cheap chatter,that self-same discharge that plasma chars air to vacuum.and those fires keep rising,and them flood waters are rising,but you, you’re ether bound, and damn if that sound don’t just R E SOUND.‘course, me, …
Untitled #578 (2014)
Synapses fire with a war-for-cheap chatter,that self-same discharge that plasma chars air to vacuum.and those fires keep rising,and them flood waters are rising,but you, you’re ether bound, and damn if that sound don’t just R E SOUND.‘course, me, I’ve got …
Untitled #576 (2014)
“A five fingered gripClammy,” I open with some psuedo-religious imagery designed to ground whatever it is I say, in popular culture so old the original myths predate the language I am speaking of them in. I’m stealing emotional credibility from your spirituality,and you watch, I’m gonna get a …
Untitled #572 (2014)
And Faulkner did like his whiskey,and it ain’t comparison, but I do too.Humid swelt afters. and more clever roots that seem archaeic now.The warmth and the sweat reminds me of those pleasant afternoons,Eleanor wrapped inside me. Blue-jeans, t-shirts, thrift-shop long-sleeves,don’t have much use for delicates,on me, in me, in anything. And …
Untitled #570 (2014)
My favorite picture of you: you touch yourself through sheer fabric, covers peeled back so I can see. “Free Until They Cut Me Down”Take me, take me home. I speak, love, of mountains so great the sky cowers,I speak of sludged flood-plains breathing their first air in …
Untitled #167 (2015)
it would be far from the only bordersthat divide me from you. calloused fingers,rounding edges,you speak of me like some craftsman when the only craft i knowis the mad chase of ideasthe making of little pointless thingsthat still mean so much to mefor all the confidence and swaggeri’ve carried through work latelyas i’m sucked into …
Untitled #166 (2015)
and when the aphids bow ,lOvedo the ants applaud? i don’t presume to know your pantry,but i know my rations run lowand how shameful i feelthat all it would takeis a touch ofyouyouthe dapple of sunlight to your skini just want someone to …
