[Response to: this is what I’d like it to look like, mother.]
BAM!!! The New Year, so much to fear, so much to lose, much to gain. Be INSANE.
woooshhhh, FLIGHT, wooosh, bite
The crab whisked himself away, his year was over and lost in eyes, time to bake, be eaten and cry, for now is the time of the hermit shelled sponge, perhaps he will gain some insight, or perhaps just plunge :X
[In response to: A pageview from the stars…}
A Portrit of Ra, The Sun God…
WSSSSSSSHHHHHHH, ULTRA DEAD MICE.
[In Response to She Existed Only To Explode…]
But Why Explode when you can fly. Fly Fly Fly. ALl the time, so high, like a dragon fly, through cries, of listenings to the album 5. She wanted to metamorphosize into a floating mobile high in the sky. A mobile that could stretch over all of Texas, like the ultimate ode to Alexander Calder. Shifts, shapes, spinning in the wind, mind the hurricanes and tornados, Dorthy don’t know shit. She just tapped around in those silly red shoes but little did she know that all that she ever was seemed to be a tripped manifistation of a silly man in lion suit who took a tad bit too much acid that fine day. Colors blur, monkey fly, and we come to know the sleep as we die, stretched among a million bright colors, prism prism prism.
So spook yourself out, don’t try to scream, just live and breath, for its Halloween!
[Response to: Last day on earth.]
the objects of the garden, robbed of visual indicators, identify their noses against the wall. a character reappears in stone, heads down to the weeds. the water of the garden, its drops on its floor, falls on crossed sticks. stars bracket the open thicket. these are the directions for seeing but not the directions for being seen. other persons are seen blindly in blue air, arms catching on the air. some days become cleverer than high heaven. others emerge like a scattered rain around nightfall, reports least attended. the marine blotches of the brain’s first day.
[response to: not sure how to come to things these days…]
Portals, Cake, and The sTrAnGe StEps wE WalK
[response to“Casket Call Drawing”]
I am wired in
Now the head- and micro-
And the switches
are lined up
In ryan’s yard
With three- and four-