Thursday, October 30, 2008


Blow out your candles!
Grab your mask!
Take my hand!
We'll burn it down!

Break out the coats!
Get your scooter!
Close your eyes!
Learn to fly!

Break the damn!
Collect yourself!
Run your mouth!
It's almost over!

(That can't be safe)
(At least he's getting out)

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

How to fly

Teeth clenched
Foot stomping
Fist tightened
Eyes blank
Noise maddening
Throat swelling
Skin shrinking
Always waiting

Monday, October 27, 2008

Your A Little Off

"What's going through your mind?"

An idea, slowly dragging, floating
No legs, no heart. no eyes, but blinking
Like looking at a reflection on glass
Mirrored yet translucent
It makes this noise
Like fingernails on a guitar string
Throbbing to a horrific beat
Someone please turn him down

Eventually it'll blossom into something beautiful, or something even worse
You win some, you lose some

Sunday, October 26, 2008

Smear Me Dear

Graphite rubbed into palms
Paint staining the skin
Eyes fatigued, sensitive
Colors turn grey

Pixels burning out
Is this a mesh or a gradient
Tutorials lead only to walls
Or nowhere at all

They need keyboard shortcuts for this

(They do, it's called ctrl+ alt+ dlt)

(If you even consider listening to him make sure to hit cmnd + s first)

Friday, October 24, 2008

Scents of Humor

It's ironic it's called chicken scratch
Who knew it would take this much courage to write a letter
Excuse the mess
I placed grass and dirt from that place we hung out in this envelope
Perfume doesn't make me think of you
It might be the old cigarettes and chlorine
Whoever invented the seals on envelopes
Knew how to skew even the prettiest face

("Mr. Cougar, Mr Owl; What causes the ability of the substance on stamps to cause the chemical bonding strength of the adhesive to be engaged by saliva?")

("Something about beetles, or that look she's giving me. Let's ask wikipedia!")
("Where are your parents?")


6 a.m. is a beautiful time.
The perfect mirrored lake, the reflection of the skies and trees, suspending the visual in infinity.

"Two skips."

The fog hangs as the trapeze artist.
The insects rub their weary eyes and traffic to their routine.

"Six skips!"
"That was only four!"

Clean air Chicago residents wouldn't believe.
Clean air we don't even believe.

"You have to make the rock hit parallel, like this."

We are the fish who don't have to worry about the fisherman

(When you throw a lot of rocks, it sounds like machine-gun fire, HOORAH)

Thursday, October 23, 2008

To Begin Proves Progress

(Ice chips, cold grips)
(Dry mouth, tear drought)

"I need time. I am the soldier under fire"
"You are no soldier!"
"We all are in this war of compassion"

(Mr. Owl, why do tears taste salty?)

(Quit asking me questions)