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Contents
1 201 7
1.1 March . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7
1.1.1 Prometheus and Mars (2010-03-09 12:18) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8
1.1.2 Those Bonds (2010-03-09 12:23) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9
1.1.3 TACHYDERM.(2010-03-10 04:06)
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 101.1.4 Telemetry (2010-03-14 01:22) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12
1.1.5 Untitled#1 (2010-03-20 20:59) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13
1.1.6 Reformation (2010-03-20 21:09) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14
1.1.7 Saturday (2010-03-23 13:59) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15
1.1.8 Austere(2010-03-23 14:05) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16
1.1.9 Halt-Steady (1 of 2) (2010-03-23 14:06) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17
1.1.10 Untitled#2 (2010-03-30 01:56) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18
1.1.11 Interdimensional Nostalgia (2010-03-30 01:56) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19
1.1.12 Untitled#3 (2010-03-30 01:58) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20
1.1.13 Confidence Man (2010-03-30 02:07) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21
1.1.14 Reprise (2 of 2) (2010-03-30 02:13) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22
1.2 April . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22
1.2.1 Antipathy(2010-04-05 13:57) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23
1.2.2 The Machine (2010-04-07 13:05) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 24
1.2.3 Untitled#4 (2010-04-12 03:12) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25
1.2.4 Leaning on a Moai Head (2010-04-27 14:48) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26
1.3 May . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26
1.3.1 From the Seventh Sea (2010-05-15 05:20) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27
1.3.2 RecentDevelopments (2010-05-15 06:00) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28
1.3.3 mirror world (2010-05-21 07:13) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29
1.3.4 sleepy (2010-05-22 09:27) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30
1.3.5 CenturyCity(2010-05-22 21:58) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31
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1.3.6 Who Knew (2010-05-27 11:49) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32
1.3.7 Driving (2010-05-27 11:59) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33
1.3.8 K. Castle(2010-05-29 04:54) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34
1.3.9 Wide Hills, Wider Eyes (2010-05-31 13:06) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35
1.4 June . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35
1.4.1 Pinion (2010-06-09 21:00) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36
1.4.2 Aquamarine (2010-06-14 18:58) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37
1.4.3 Parallel Existent(2010-06-14 21:01) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38
1.5 July . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38
1.5.1 Under the Green Meridian (2010-07-02 21:19) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39
1.5.2 Carbuncle (2010-07-03 12:13) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40
1.5.3 Black Suede (2010-07-07 12:56) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 41
1.5.4 the last roadblock in Eden (2010-07-11 18:48) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 421.5.5 Slow News Day (2010-07-20 21:12) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43
1.5.6 5/5/05 05:55:55 (2010-07-21 12:31) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 44
1.5.7 Free Radicals (2010-07-21 14:06) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45
1.5.8 Recipient(2010-07-25 14:07) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46
1.5.9 goodbye, long morning (2010-07-25 14:54) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47
1.5.10 Northern Shrine (2010-07-28 14:04) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 48
1.6 August . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 48
1.6.1 Manticore(2010-08-02 03:08) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 491.6.2 Extemporaneous Problem Solving (2010-08-02 11:56) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 50
1.6.3 Halcyon (2010-08-04 15:38) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51
1.6.4 Special Occasion (2010-08-05 00:36) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52
1.6.5 As Best You Can (2010-08-10 16:41) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 53
1.6.6 Pall & Stella (2010-08-10 17:27) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 54
1.6.7 Quantification(2010-08-18 11:57) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 55
1.6.8 back and forth and in between (2010-08-18 12:02) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 56
1.6.9 Statues, Greek Mythology & the Radio (2010-08-18 12:23) . . . . . . . . . . . . . 57
1.6.10 Manmade Lake (2010-08-23 16:25) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58
1.6.11 The Invalids (2010-08-27 01:30) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59
1.7 September . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59
1.7.1 criterion ofthe metadata (2010-09-07 20:10) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 60
1.7.2 Verdigris (2010-09-08 11:00) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61
1.7.3 anomalocaris (2010-09-12 01:41) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 62
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1.7.4 Linchpin (2010-09-14 20:57) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 63
1.7.5 Gigant(2010-09-14 21:12) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 64
1.7.6 tension(2010-09-14 23:29) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 65
1.7.7 Untitled#5 (2010-09-18 01:24). . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 66
1.7.8 Home Sweet Home Theme (2010-09-18 01:40) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67
1.7.9 Nassau (2010-09-18 01:53) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 68
1.7.10 individual stimuli (2010-09-20 02:29) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 69
1.7.11 contempo movie wars (2010-09-24 08:11) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 70
1.7.12 N. Land (2010-09-25 03:52) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 71
1.7.13 Dinosaur Museum (2010-09-25 04:08) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 72
1.7.14 Parasitism(2010-09-25 04:20) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 73
1.7.15 WinterList (2010-09-25 04:29) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 74
1.7.16 conscious effort to remain (2010-09-25 04:35) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75
1.7.17 Selective March (2010-09-25 04:42) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76
1.7.18 finalazo (2010-09-25 04:45) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77
1.8 October . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77
1.8.1 polymath hands (2010-10-08 22:22) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 78
1.8.2 entitlement(2010-10-08 22:31) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 79
1.8.3 slow, dizzy shadows (2010-10-08 22:35) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 80
1.8.4 dead dog laughing (2010-10-08 22:46) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81
1.8.5 Remmy (2010-10-08 23:03) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 82
1.8.6 Sticks (2010-10-21 00:11) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 83
1.8.7 Placard (2010-10-21 20:51) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 84
1.8.8 All the money in the world wont get you out (2010-10-21 21:09) . . . . . . . . . . 85
1.9 November . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 85
1.9.1 Skullduggery (2010-11-05 11:03) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 86
1.9.2 Highway Theme (2010-11-11 01:08) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 87
1.9.3 antimatter(2010-11-25 02:29) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88
1.9.4 Outside(2010-11-25 02:36) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 89
1.9.5 Mr. Sloan (2010-11-25 03:00) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 90
1.9.6 Indomitable(2010-11-25 03:04) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 91
1.10 December . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 91
1.10.1 Sea Side (2010-12-02 17:42) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 92
1.10.2 Rhododendron (2010-12-02 18:44) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 93
1.10.3 Radio Poems (2010-12-10 15:33) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 94
1.10.4 Guessing Game (2010-12-12 12:45) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 95
1.10.5 TentativeFiction(2010-12-12 12:49) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 96
1.10.6 The Streets (2010-12-23 12:18) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 97
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2 2011 99
2.1 January . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 99
2.1.1
2.2 Februa
Delta, delta (2011-01-24 19:27) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 100
y . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 100
2.2.1 Finite Morning (2011-02-07 18:33) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 101
2.2.2 Struck (2011-02-23 16:40) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 102
2.2.3 Now, we go (2011-02-23 17:03) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 103
2.2.4 Decoder Song (2011-02-23 17:10) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 104
2.2.5 indicative (2011-02-23 17:23) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 105
2.2.6 We are not the Counting Clock (2011-02-23 17:26) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 106
2.3 March . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 106
2.3.1 odd lights, strange angles (2011-03-08 23:44) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 107
2.3.2
#2 andthe
premise of five people (2011-03-09 19:27)
...
......
.......
108
2.4 May . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 108
2.4.1 Affodell (2011-05-07 00:54) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 109
2.4.2 One single individual (2011-05-07 05:10) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 110
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Chapter 1
2010
1.1 March
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1.1.1 Prometheus and Mars (2010-03-09 12:18)
And I looked at Mars
saying, Why are we here?
He staredback
and replied, Why am I here?
And I turned to Huckleberry,
asking the same:
Why are we here?
And he laughed: Why ask me?
And I faced the mirror
riddled with fissures,
asking, Why are we here?
and he said to me:
The first time you ask
is expected. The second is
enough. The third is wasted.
There is work to be done.
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1.1.2 Those Bonds (2010-03-09 12:23)
When Prometheus touched
the flame,
the chain ignited.
Followed forages
and added at length,
attachingto those
tiedto the stake.
Those who dont follow
fall by the wayside.
As those who lead
find the schematics.
The last doomsday machine.
And Prometheus laughs
immolated in practice,
horizonperturbed.
But Titan stillhopes,
Mars still watches,placing aspirations,
tighteningthe ropes.
And I wake up
screaming, even then.
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1.1.3 TACHYDERM. (2010-03-10 04:06)
On that Monday afternoon, Patrickdecided to withdraw from college.
Maybe it was the smell of dry-erase in the air, or the drones of Dr. Lowrey but that doesnt matter. It
was a longtime coming: a storm brewed from malcontent in classrooms that were never relevant.
The term higher education had lost its allure through unfilled promises and misguided expectations. At least
it had so far.Looking up from his notebook, Patrick Dateman, twenty years old, shot five different holes throughthe lesson
plans of his professor. He hadnt opened the required texts once during the semester, and h a d n t thought
twice about studying. The lack of concern towards grades and numbers had been well established by his
sophomore year, andwithanotheryear to go, his apathy could solidify no more.
The well was dry.
Youll find that this area of study is arbitrary to scholastic integrity, lectured the professor, Patrick only
picking upnon-distinctmurmurs, andthatthethinkingprocess behindpedagogy is relevant inmoreways
thanone.
Mr. Dateman, can you please reiterate what Ivejust proposed? inquired the instructor,afternoticing the
only pairofeyes in the class room that werent utterly enrapt.
Taking the time to finish writing a sentence in his notebook, Patrick tilted his head, looking up. His
demeanoranswered the question, yet he still spoke.
No.
And why is that? The teacher asked with a rhetorical pause, expecting no answer, Youll have to pay
more attention if you want to make this a true learning experience, taking a breath before finishing the
platitude, thematerialinthisclassgoesbeyondgradesanddelves intothethingsyoulldoonceyoureout
ofschool.
Now, hecontinued, PleasereiteratewhatIwasjust lecturingPatrick interrupted the instructor.
There s nothing Id take out ofthis class seriously, said Patrick, in a rapid, adamant tenor, The things
we discuss arent legitimate in any sense, and we only talk about learning instead of actually learning
anything.
Silence immediately spread across the classroom, closing conversations as a wall of eyes fell upon the whistle-blower.
Bewildered, and maybe, just maybe shaken to the core, Dr. Lowrey took ample time before responding:
Mr. Dateman, Ifthat s how you, erm, feel about the learning process here, then I suggest you d start taking
classes that interest you or, umm, take a good long look at yourself, sputtered the professor, tripping over
every othersyllable and losing the passive, content look he had shouldered foreightweeks.
Patrickgathered his things and walked out ofthe room.
Treading throughthe hallway, more than slightly dazed, Patrickalmost walked rightinto Professor Maitland,
whom he hadn t seen since his freshman year.
Why, hello there! said the good-humored professor, stopping to chat.
Oh, hello, said Patrick, pulling his eyes from the floor.
Learning a lot? asked Maitland.Patrick looked back down at the floor. Shifting his weight on one leg, then on the other, raising his head
only to chortle and squeak, No, not really; I dont think I m going to stick around this place much longer.
Maitland s smiledisappeared.Narrowinghis eyes,hestaredathisoldstudentandasked, Andwhymight
thatbe?
Patrick started, The only way I can explain it is like this do you thinkits important where you re studying
or howmuchyoure learning?
Maitland didn t move and waited for the student to continue.
I mean, said Patrick, feeling vindicated, Im ahead of everyone here, I know way more, but my grades are
terriblebecauseIcantpayattentionforfiveminutes.
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He looked up and returnedMaitlands stare.
Its not my fault either. Why should I pay attention ifits arbitrary anyway? said Patrick. I already know
everythingIneedtoknowatthispoint intime,sowhyshouldIhavetopayforanythingelse?
Maitland slowly nodded.
More importantly, I m wasting my time here, and I don t know about my peers, but itperturbs me, Patrick
finishedwith a shrug.
Mr. Dateman, what youll be doing forthe next few years are going to have an effect on what you re goin
to do forthenext few decades, said Professor Maitland, unwavering, If you want to drop out and surviv
offcreativity,hardwork,and sheermot ivation,Ithinkyoullbe inforanasty surprise.
Patrickshoved his hands in his pockets,averting his eyes from Maitland.
I think I could do it, he spoke up, and I cant stand being here. I might have just made that clear t
more thanafewpeople.
Maitland smiled, not knowing what had occurred prior to theirchance meeting, and said Well, in any case
you should stick it out. By the time you find out dropping out is a mistake, theres no way to compensat
or fix what could havebeen. Youllendupmediocre. Justusethebestofwhatyouhave,okay?
Patrickfrowned at the candid words, but nodded.
Illhavetobegoing, saidMaitland, butIexpecttoseeyouaroundhere intheFall.
Nodding as the professor walked by, Patrick turned around, peering down the hall and a t t h e classroom h
stormed out ofearlier.He looked down.
One way or the other.
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1.1.4 Telemetry (2010-03-14 01:22)
Starting with a yawn,
my friend always says,
Sleep when youredead!
However,
the feelings and
feeling
are mutuallyexclusive.
Maybe its been
19 years and I
havent found a good reason
yet. With a yawn,
I always hope
its never too late to start.
I go over these lines
laying on the floor;
its almost 5AM.
Its never too late
to sleep when youredead
and writepoetry
in the morning
and maybe read it aloud.
We should stay up again
Ill sleep when Im dead.
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1.1.5 Untitled#1 (2010-03-20 20:59)
I cant help but
stareoutsidewhile
those around me
cower and hide;
the date has
fallen, timehas
run out. This
is the end.
In happenstance,
all my notions
fall by the
wayside and honesty
seeps through cumuli
sheets: who you
are, or who
you let others
see?
Pay attention this is important.
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1.1.6 Reformation (2010-03-20 21:09)
Complacency has its own place.
I will sit here and
drink apple juice,
read a book
and eat ice cream.
Seclusion is over- attributed.
I will meetthemand
smile, maybe say
a word or two.
Comfort is unnecessary.
Its timeto stand up.
Ive found my reasons again.
I will keep my eyes open.
I will keep my eyes
I will keep
I, Will
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1.1.7 Saturday (2010-03-23 13:59)
Do you remember
gluing pennies to
the floor?
I dontthink you do.
Grasping at straws wouldnt
come close.
Ever Saturday Ive
come across pales in
comparison.
You twocan
only lookforward.
Ill hold hands,
facing the other direction.
Someone needs to
remember
what you did.
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1.1.8 Austere (2010-03-23 14:05)
A book ruined
by the hands
holding it,
A body ruined
by the visage
left upon it,
Silence broken
withno
replacement,
And theseare
the ones who
wont recall
Thedefinition,
otherwise
perfect.
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1.1.9 Halt-Steady (1 of 2) (2010-03-23 14:06)
An affair with lexicon
becomes obvious after many
half-heartedattempts
rather, the absence
of a healthy relationship.
And I find my works
devoid of
color and
feeling,
and well make
this a great
pointto say
good-bye,
I had fun
pretending.
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1.1.10 Untitled #2 (2010-03-30 01:56)
Husks and shells line this alley
tourniquets, among others strewn about
and the only thing I could keep thinkingabout
wasthe research paper I had to do
in a weeks worth oftime.
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1.1.11 Inter-dimensionalNostalgia (2010-03-30 01:56)
Prometheus sat on his throne, a man-made invention, and said:
I dontunderstand how you feel or how you think!
and all Titan did was blink.
I dont know whetherI can do this or not, said Huckleberry,
andwe all looked on, distraught;
for these were the looks we gave one other;
when you see through cloud cover,
we look back on these foggy thoughts,
wondering when and how weve
lost.
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1.1.12 Untitled #3 (2010-03-30 01:58)
Avoiding these problems can only make them worse
forevery five there can only be one
and in every thought of mine rightnow
Im looking at a loaded gun.
Every line becomes a non sequitur.
(But thats no good.)
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1.1.13 Confidence Man (2010-03-30 02:07)
Half ofthe ones Ive met have it in endless quarries,
and I dont know who theystarted these wells in the
first place. Perhaps someone dug them out forthemselves,
ormaybe doused them after birth with showers of
who knows what. But I dont have thesethings in endless bounds
and when I do start to try
something wells up and I forgot that I was scared
inthe first place but I dont know ifIm
any good but Bukowski says
the best dont thinktheyre good at all
ormaybe thats what T.S. said.
One day Ill be able to look you in the eye
andtell you Im good
untilthen
Im going to keep pounding on these keys
and annoy those around me to no end.
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1.1.14 Reprise (2 of 2) (2010-03-30 02:13)
In the neighborhood where we shut all the windows.
Ill never forget the people who sat out front.
On those hazy summer days, with sticks up our shirts,
we knew how to party then.
Though, so it seems, the definition has changed
quite a bit since weve been away,
And how do you feel aboutthis one? I ask.
You would always be
the first person to tellme
for that, I thankyou.
Ill let you know that Ill keep trying.
Even ifthis facade is a little too
obvious,
I have to admit,
Ive grown to like
every part ofit.
Wontyou join me?
1.2 April
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1.2.1 Antipathy (2010-04-05 13:57)
Could you find me here
inthis hole with
rags and curtains
inbetween
packed boxes and
old furniture?
In one place
I used to fathom,
now enrapt
(or gone).
Could
antipathy
clear away
theserecords?
Sittingalone
here,
looking out the windowwatching the hours flyby.
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1.2.2 The Machine (2010-04-07 13:05)
Even sober hands
cannot understand
the nature
and rhythm.
Yet we find
more reasons.
Sitting,
screaming and
slamming hands,
tryingto make sense.
But symbols dont follow
protocol
and
reason.
Coming of age; season
in, season out. Id
rather lay near mystacks
a bit longer
fornow.
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1.2.3 Untitled#4 (2010-04-12 03:12)
Thebest machine to
ever coexist, forgotten
now, dropped in the
abyss.
Even the bestmachine
will cover in rust
and cease to function
bringing about
intrepidjunctions;
even the bestmachine
over time will
be forgotten.
Maybe youll be found, though,
even by a teenager,
and for a few minutes
become a star once more.
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1.2.4 Leaning on a Moai Head (2010-04-27 14:48)
Ill find myself humming
inthe shade with
my eyes closed, with
everything making sense forthe firsttime.
I would welcome the breeze splashing across my face.
My ears open,
wide open doors.
Id let anyone in and see what they have to say;
Id shake theirhands as they leave and get theirnumbers,
calling them later when I had forgotten
what they sound like.
I could learn to breathe only through my nose
and my pillow would smell like
salt every night and that would be
fine by me.
Of course, there would be no talking. By this time,
it will be banned foryears.Communication?
We just stare at each other, making
Moai faces, leaning on Moai heads,
sitting in Moai poses.
My chin would never leave my knees;
my chin and knees would
become good friends. Helloto you,
too.
1.3 May
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1.3.1 From the Seventh Sea (2010-05-15 05:20)
I am a product of my environment,
and today the wildling comes home to roost.
They called him the native
in old, old books.
But the length of my visit
wont extendthe reaches.
Still,the sound of escape
is enticing;
likened to tentacles and manacles.
Sometimes a mask can
write your problems away,
fixthe problems before
a house would collapse
right on top ofyou.
When the two of us turned around we could still feel the water lapping on our feet,
like old dogs from the dreams we once had.
We could still feel the heat coming from the waves;not from the sea, but from the fire.
Oncethings end they dont really end
they always exist and make more,
procreate,
drawing and sketching and plottingwith
the rest ofthem.
We can hold sequels sequencesthough.
Some beings wont hold a candle to the thoughts
andpossibilities.
Im standing in the water,
feeling the waves.And like a pallid breath the waves
take and the waves wash away.
Fingernailsbitten offacross cement walls can be grown back, a
bent mind can grow back, correctly.
Sit in the water. Absorb the best antipode
found on earth
orheaven.
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1.3.2 RecentDevelopments (2010-05-15 06:00)
Little men withties held tight
wonderwhat the census will tell us,
reading theresults while watching
the gulfburn, burn, burn.
I wantto live, I wantto live again, says the newscaster.
Words float across the screen, live-captioned, but he only
pays attention to the morphine-drip, the rainbow-swirls found
onthe water. He pokes the bag with his finger and watches.
He looks at the rainbow on top ofthe gulf and dips his finger in.
Across the country, eyes widen and hold.
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1.3.3 mirror world (2010-05-21 07:13)
Youre in the sun for
about
twenty minutes every day and
youreyes always hurt and itch.
Youdont eat meals and wonder
whyyoure always hungry.
You sleep during the day and
sometimes you forget what
day it is, even what part ofthe
weekit is.
Its always darkoutside
but
sometimes friends
keep you company and
make it better.
When you finally make it out you wonder
what you were thinking;Three weeks later you wonder
who you were.
And there is no way youre
ever going back.
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1.3.4 sleepy (2010-05-22 09:27)
you breezed right in,
grabbed my hand,
told me not to
get up so fast.
I sat up, yawning,
looking around,
but you were
never here.
You touched my face
to wake me up,
just one fingeron
thetip of my nose,
a little splash of
cold water and
when I fell back asleep
you just giggled,
walkingover when i started
wheezing. Give me
your hand
and pull me up, i said.
You just laughed,
but
Im awake now
and
where did you
go?
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1.3.5 CenturyCity (2010-05-22 21:58)
Give me a sigil,
pull me out,
wring me
in one day,
aquick
flash,
there was
so much
workto
remember,
he stood outside,
tapped his face,
pointed at her
and
Im doing a
bad imitation,
five years later,
no, not even close.
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1.3.6 Who Knew (2010-05-27 11:49)
Screaming across curtains
like dripping honey,
one thousand years of
blue
electric spiderwebs,
masks under masks.
History has always been
carried on the backs, the
lashes demonized across
laughing,
laughing everything.
Did they know what
they were carrying?
Dig deep forthe finale,
stand up when theycall
your name, and
make sure youlookthem in the eye.
They dont give second chances.
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1.3.7 Driving (2010-05-27 11:59)
I listened to mad organs on the beach and I
waited for an answer, calling to the speakers
and slamming my head on a piano,
rolling my head on its axis, tongue hanging out.
Cutting my toes offwithboltcutters,
listening to my song,
the song ofmyself,
and in that timeeverything made sense:
Hetold me to go home and take a shower.
You hold your mind in the
palm of your hand; pick a good timeto
letgo.
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1.3.8 K. Castle (2010-05-29 04:54)
Even as
a
child I never
thoughtId
get out alive.
Even when
sittingon
the
floor,
Id grow
hopeless,
wondering if
I would be here
forever,
ifthere was
a way out.
Itturns outthere is
no
way out,
that we
are
all
doomed,
you will
never get
out
alive,but you
might as
well
get up,
offthe
floor,
listen
to the
music,
andturn
your head.Stareat
someone
likeyou
mean
it,
listen
tothe
music.
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1.3.9 Wide Hills, Wider Eyes (2010-05-31 13:06)
Before the cloud swallowed
the sun,
fifty years of nothing but
black ages, dark faces drawn on
walls,
stretched across
bodies,
masses,
dark matter
The first resign
openedthe hills,
the backdoor
the Moai came back and
toppled,
every single one,
the hills opened
and
light came back,
back when we
held the sun in our
pockets
1.4 June
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1.4.1 Pinion (2010-06-09 21:00)
Keep it,
wear it on your shoulder
like the bricks we
carried on ourbacks
maybe when I started
I wasnt sure what I meant
or I didnt know what was
goingto happen,
but now you
know what to hold,
who to,
and how to
move,
a treethat kept
its roots in
sand,
moving forthefirsttime
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1.4.2 Aquamarine (2010-06-14 18:58)
you-know-who
With a flick
and a dash,
the wind hollow
on old treetrunks,
sour-how-you-like-it,
made in
time,
timeagain,
the push and pull
(mostlythe push),
standing on a ring,
ahalf-emptycup.
Where the
lines cross,a hand
reachedout
to me.
I sat up with
my hand out,
back in space,
back in real-life
and yourface,
like every perfect angle.
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1.4.3 Parallel Existent (2010-06-14 21:01)
I need my feet back in the game,
cause I'm rethinking every step.
To be fresh out of your mind
every time you sit down,
like a thousand curtains
closing at once, one swoop.
Back to the way you
close your hand,
holding,
like the kid who starting crying because his dad
went to the store without him.
In one life,
yes.
And on that afternoon I saw
a rusted shopping cartin the river,
would you believe
it's something I still
hold?
In one life,
yes.
1.5 July
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1.5.1 Under The Green Meridian (2010-07-02 21:19)
Those sea-posts we used to fall
swept, clipped like knives
wracked, blown in circles
and tilted.
A study in lines a
study in lives
Theserustic parts
will not
must not
hold.
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1.5.2 Carbuncle (2010-07-03 12:13)
Those who sat with me on the bed
back in the 20th century,
with boats and airplanes.
And guns and machines,
towerswith windows,
steam (lots of steam).
When men still screamed,
when it wasnormal
back when time was not-so-important.
Things change, people
change, even the world
changes.
Some things are not-so-important
anymore,
like all ofthe above.
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1.5.3 Black Suede (2010-07-07 12:56)
I stepped offthe bus,
followed by a close friend
I hadnt seen in a few days.
He said we shouldnt have left, and
that we were going back as soon
aswe could. I turned around
and smiled. I want you to know that
were coming back, and while it might
take sometime, well come back foryou.
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1.5.4 the last roadblockin Eden (2010-07-11 18:48)
This!
the big finish
everyones here, each accounted for.
I lock eyes with everyone in the room,
Isat up.
Something I heard,
one picture comes to mind.
Someone from my dreams
contacted me in
real-life.
How do we know
when we getthere
I know Im not a serious person
but if I didnt have this
could you tell,
look at me different?
If you could see the thingsI see:
blue, blue,
electric-blue.
With legs planted firm in gravity,
slowly, in time,I
found reason to liveand now, the
converse. Thepenultimateantipode,
the last roadblock in Eden,back to
the big finishThis: defending the
will to live.
It was the truth.Its all true.
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1.5.5 Slow News Day (2010-07-20 21:12)
A man was reportedly
wearing black on Donald Road
chasing dogs and not saying anything.
A 32-year-old man reportedlywas digging a hole wearing black
clothing atthe playground on Cedar St.
An old man wasreportedly sticking his
head into a sewergrate wearing black
clothing and crying on Lake Dr.
Two young boys wearing black were
reportedly drinking from gas
nozzles at the QuickStop
on Main St. not saying anything.
A dog was lured into a runoff tunnel
on 2nd and Mertz and no one
said anything.
A twelve-year-oldboy
reportedly walking in circles not
sayinganything fortwo days on
Album Drive has now passed away.
Someone wearing black clothing
not saying anything decided to
dosomething, and started
walkingoutside on Cobb Ln.
They started converging last
night at 10 not saying anything and
disappeared behind a building.
A man reportedly was in a treewearing
black clothing not saying anything
and had to go to the bathroom
onExponentialDr.
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1.5.6 5/5/05 05:55:55 (2010-07-21 12:31)
I always thoughtit was sad
whenthey showed interviews
with a year in white fontnext
to the persons name, that they
can never revise or change what
theyve said, that theyll always
be stuck on tape, on record, that
this is the only way people will
rememberthem;the absolute
last thingthey ever said to
anyone.
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1.5.7 Free Radicals (2010-07-21 14:06)
A man looking in his mirror looks at a man looks at
the little girl who found a husk hanging in her closet,
brings it food, eventually her mother the thinggrows
eyes and finds some grating to slip through, like the park
and meets eyes out of some corner, keeps moving but
the man who saw is looking at his friend, loving and
meeting that gaze the other is disgusted, turns away,
gets a grasp on one who knows about the thing, is
looking for it sees a women withprosthetics, keeps
walking finds a sewer,gets in, looks up the man keeps
going sees something crawling in the street, is tired
he sits down, hugs his legs and triesto stay warm
because its so cold outside.
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1.5.8 Recipient (2010-07-25 14:07)
With a sense ofpurpose,
across thoseyoull never-ever see,
the old-man me cried and
cried, repeating, death death death.
We left him on the road, saying,
ifit was going to happen it was going to happen.
Sometake by the hand, yet others know
before a mouth splits open.
Others know and choose to stand
caught as whispers, keeping
vague notions of where and when
togo.
And when timedoubled-over,
carrying myself in myself,
I chose goodbye, good luck,
to nod the curtains forward. It
seems like my corddid fray at the end,
a little man ran up to me
and told me Im dead.
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1.5.9 goodbye, long morning (2010-07-25 14:54)
I need to get a new handle on
color, the feel,
not the artificial kind that no one can
compare with,
tiny keys that everyone keeps; the
onestheycant seem to find.
Monday mornings withexhaust and
dew andgravel,
Bumping into beetles and sweating
in a shirt that doesntfit,
Trying on a shirt that seems to choke,
in dust and fibers;
We asked a woman how much for the suit
she smiled and said her dead husband wore it.
Every wrinkle had been kind except for
those she gained while gazing the casket.
I could feel snow in the in between,every step was water down my back.
The faucet attached to my face did not like
the leaves I dived into every other minute.
Whenthe silence is deafening, when you
make something out ofthe patterns beneath you.
Onceit stands out, though,it will never
come back.
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1.5.10 Northern Shrine (2010-07-28 14:04)
Hopping mad, like Ive always wantedto be.
From the bluffs, caricatures of a high-rise,
rolling your eyes with warm lids.
Make the place you intendto keep,
glean it untilyouredead.
Aftercarbon copies disappear.
Running to the place Id made,
deep in the deep dark.
A place to keep my words.
One facsimile modern man wont touch,
at least,
in the absence of company that crumbles.
1.6 August
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1.6.1 Manticore (2010-08-02 03:08)
Flat on a stone slab,
the firstmonolith
in one thousandyears
spent watching,
reading from her book
withtwisted words,
curled like dead toes
andknotted fingers.
Thesescenes,
reverberations that seem
so familiar, not because its
happened but
because its something you can
relate to. Less of a memory
and more ofa
feeling.
Tell meifyou
see that
book.
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1.6.2 Extemporaneous Problem Solving (2010-08-02 11:56)
Often enough I would acceptthe veil,
thecurtainto fall over my own and
Id leave for a few moments, minutes.
When it wastimeto come back,
they were the ones who did the reminding,
the retooling, the reentry.
There are two sets oflids.
Open the first to see what you want,
open too hard and youll
come back.
Later days let you choose yourmoments,
this is one,
and tomorrowanother.
I am going back
because
something was
taken.
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1.6.3 Halcyon (2010-08-04 15:38)
The light at the end ofthe tunneltheytold us turned out to be false. A facsimile, a prefabrication that led
us in a wrong direction.
So where were you when all of us listened?
The reservoir you keep, filled, is more than just a mystery.
Its something I dont think Ill ever figure out.
It is imitable.
When its timeto get up you get up there is no
exit, there is no time.
Here, or in other dimensions, or in past lives,
askme the same question.
Go look in
amirror.
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1.6.4 Special Occasion (2010-08-05 00:36)
With what?
Either the conceived ill-will of a slick-heeled man,
orthe drop of a rock.
Battered, unforgiven, unchained.
Shoulders, when even, represent more than youd think.
At leastthats what Ive been told, on more than one occasion.
When you look in and lookback,
do you exchange words, anything at all?
To have all five working together,
in unison, by definition. Closing your hand
and knowing that its there,that its real.
When you cant seepast yourself
because your sockets have been inlaid, ingrained that far.
Being so close to home, everything seems like a faraway
hill,everything is a distant planet and people are just
things inorbit, colliding every-so-often.
To make your world a galaxy is making everything small-time.Ifthe world is strangerthan you could have ever imagined, thats a good thing.
Fingertips are meantto touch; you donttie stringsto them, not even once.
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1.6.5 As BestYou Can (2010-08-10 16:41)
When time careens, gone over cliffs;
beyond clichs, the battered and once original ideas ofthosewho
(cant seepast themselves)
reallywantedto try something
(ofcoursenot),
and the words ofwords
(ofworlds).
The times when th e mind is fire and the disillusionment,
discouragementto even try in the original frame.
The moment has passed, you have passed, but there is no engine to watch the past.
If a whole life was a film reel, and every picture followed one fall like the drop of a nail, Id be the one
in the room careening, watching the film come toward me, head on. You do not
sortthe film thats been spun; you do not roll the contents ofthe floor.
Time goes both ways which way youre pointing that head
decides which train,
train of thought or the train oftime.
Tell me which; close your eyes halfway.
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1.6.6 Pall & Stella (2010-08-10 17:27)
Sitting behind that counter, asking me genre fiction and Im saying yes, yes
questions being a breeze, a littletoobiting.
I went back, I trudged back to those white walls and made words work, fitting like jigsaw and asking and
gettingananswer.
Say youve never seen anythingright in front of you; we just keep staring and writing and slamming, heads
and hands and a soul like glass and feelings that will not bend.
Eyes are opaque. Deep pictures pull your hands to the glass.
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1.6.7 Quantification (2010-08-18 11:57)
The math used to conquerphysics,
angles and angels.
Limited by sticks,adults caked in
black, wool, and a dignified sense ofthe impossible.
You do not want your world constructed
in the South. Keep the unexplained and
ifthis seems to be your answer,
its not one I want.
I remember a certain conversation, spewing
how I didnt want an answer that fit millions,
applicableto billions especially
one crafted by one.
It goes without saying that even this
world contains the unexplained,
but not in the same sense;
itsjust the untold.
The unwritten exists andcan only stitch so much together.
A blanket by definition, cause, impact;
histories tied by stringstied by blue fingers.
Stick to yourown, build your own,
and thrive in your own world.
Theuntold deserves no time of
your own.
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1.6.8 backand forthand inbetween (2010-08-18 12:02)
To the capsules opening doors,
thisthe next and the day before.
They told me some kind ofradiation had caused
this monster, that the same kind (but not as evil)
would fix the problem,but
it grabbed me by the face and spent half of its time running, blindly
throughthe halls ofthe dead and
laboratories and dormitories
chasing something else,
an answer.
To bring back what has always existed, I dug up this line from the tenth dimension.
Memory that works forward, backward, following the roots of a plant. Tapped and
now fibrous, feelers like little monsters. The things we choose to keep to ourselves.
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1.6.9 Statues, Greek Mythology & The Radio (2010-08-18 12:23)
The question then becomes one of fun, my good men, and I will make that the point of departure thi
evening, explained Steven.
My mind was somewhere else. Among the books and shelves it kept coming back to that gross bump on m
forehead, if it was going to be gone in a few days, and the prospect of red and blue wasntpleasant. But
kept following him; why not.
Looking up and down a few times, he punched in a code with his stubby fingers and gave a satisfied smile:
Were in, said Steven,Just dont make a lot of noise before we get on the roof.
I kept looking around. We stood outsidethe high school, right next to a bush that would have been burnin
a few thousand years ago, and waited for the door to open. There was the kind of dew that stuck to you
pant legs everywhere, so I had a coat on.
Jon wasnt sopatient and kept tellingSteventhat he knew, he knew, and just wantedto go inside.
Finally, we breezed rightthrough the halls and head for the custodians room since it had the ladder to th
roof we wantedto climb. I forgot to mention I was the one holding the soccerball.
I guess wed been thinkingabout doing this for a few weeks, but it wasnt occasional that we did somethin
exciting. It happened now and then, like a severe thunderstorm warning. When it happened, you knew.
Jon was commenting on how strange it was that the rungs to the ladder were cold when I looked up an
saw thatwe needed a key. Masterlockhad it out for us, but in no time at all Steven whipped out some keymid-ladder, as he said, and we each tookour timegrunting and bending our way out ofthe hatch.
As soon as we got up there I tooka napkin out of my pocket with some writing on it and read it a few times
I put it back in my pocket and looked around. Apparently, on school roofs, theres more than one tier. W
were on the lower echelon. We found anotherladderand started climbing again. Steven dropped the socce
ball and looked at Jon before kicking it.
I sat down on the upper roof and looked around, there was a piece of paper barely grounded, so I picked i
up and read it a few times:
Ill write one ofthese childrens books, Super Z-
The handwriting was nice but the last half ofthe title had been stained with coffee and god knows what. I
put it in my pocket and watched the game.
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1.6.10 Manmade Lake (2010-08-23 16:25)
Something about the wind
told me to sleep, quickly,
rightthen and there,
among friends.
Sometimes you keep your
head down and stay that
way for a few
years.
Then, time sweeps like limber legs,
and you have to wake up, stand straight up.
This is that time,
and from now on
the replica houses,
with yards holding hands
sat near a big puddle
with all that fake sand.
Just drive by,dont even make a passing glance
like you hadntnoticed
the other side ofthe road.
who knew
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1.6.11 The Invalids (2010-08-27 01:30)
The Invalids live across the street always walking
and discussing each other.
They shout on the bus untilthe bus driver stops
and young kids squirm.
The Invalids take nothing, eat nothing, and find themselves
everyday at sunset.
They never wore shoes and stepped on rocks and didnt even notice. They lefttheirhair down and looked a
others with eyebrows down and didnt rake leaves and let the fence fall apart. They wrote books and rea
themto eachotherlike in my dreams and the house listened too.
The Invalids spent a lot oftime living and didnt think about being alive.
1.7 September
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1.7.1 criterion of the metadata (2010-09-07 20:10)
I am the fire that wishes to lick
the edge ofthe field ofthe horizon
of your vision.
On the third second ofthe third minute
onthe third day third hour third month
third year third decade third century.
Making, cataloging every piece of
gray matterthoughtever
conceived since
anyone cared. Or didnt, since
they all knew it was bad,
like-really-really-bad.
The sun that no one saw on the
day no one remembered ofthe
night when everyone stayedawake.
Thats where youll find me,
he says,and that is where Ill always stay.
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1.7.2 Verdigris (2010-09-08 11:00)
Everything else is taking it;
everything else is faking it.
There was a building a half mile away
that was never opened or anything
really; its stayedthe same since then.
Nothing has moved, the ancient metals
have not left the ground, everything is
rust and nothing is new.
And when it finally made airwaves
it was just news, not a story.
It was dead and making its rounds.
Dead and never to ever come back.
Everyone eventually forgot.
A few years later someone
noticed a mark on a calendar,
and everyone remembered.
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1.7.3 anomalocaris (2010-09-12 01:41)
How disorienting it is to look down
and see two hands looking back up,
put on your own pedestal.
Lettingeverythingrefresh
every so often,
a hard resetto daily doldrums.
In these flashes it speaks:
Where have I been?
Ive been sickbut now Im well.
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1.7.4 Linchpin (2010-09-14 20:57)
And theywrote:
older minds spread poison
to younger minds,
making toxic
questions feasible
if not altogetherrequired.
They wrote withmanners;
isms from habits,bits from
yesterday now endangered.
They walk with
stale air, faces less
than stellar
facing the wrong
direction like stones
that have been
and willbe
in the same placefor a thousandyears.
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1.7.5 Gigant (2010-09-14 21:12)
Borne by the sand and rocks and patterns and stone,
slow moving, still hibernated, still born.
Found in the collective minds ofthe unmindful,
ofnothing,
compacted in each direction; lulled to sleep with
streams of wet running, gliding down its face.
Whenit wakes,
when we wake,
the stirring, the vibration
fell over the cities,
towns,metropoleis;
there he climbed
the ladder ofthe dead
and with each rung
his hands wrought
further.
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1.7.6 tension (2010-09-14 23:29)
There is tension in everything.
Prethought, worry, wavering, indecision.
Its all kept in asolitaryroom,
a small closet in your head.
Theres a window near the top.
Three cast iron bars
cover the window. Theyre strewn
with rust and cold to touch.
Sometimes the window opens.
Sometimes it gets out.
Things get loose.
Gathered by busy hands,
thingsget back intoplace;
everythingoverlaps.
Everything is relative.
People find theirown answers.
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1.7.7 Untitled#3 (2010-09-18 01:24)
And he knew that the worst was over what a fleeting notion.
We sit on the other side ofthe fence, knowing which side is
which. Choosing not to look at the sun, because knowing is
enough it has always been enough.
He knew the worst was over he started breathing easy
needles left pressure balanced everythingsymmetrized.
A fence exists to separate twoentities only one was left
so existing came second.
The sun was left and the space between stayed put.
She was leftoutside knowing what would what will
happen because it was finite knowing was enough.
The sun was left.
It seems more apparent than anything else that some
people are terribly sad, dashed across pavement never
nod your head up depressed. And to these no more
attention is left.
When it started therewasnt enough time in the world foreach facetilt and sideways look. If anyone deserved anything,
any attention at all it was the one in the time when it had
actually happened.
To happen to notice to give more than one look; the tenets
that make minds peace. And even further, knowing enough
even with one lookthe places and roads some will walk with
empty hands, minds; closed eyes.
That crushing seems to find its place in every vein gap and empty.
Onethat leaves you in bed for days because its broken legs, will
state ofmind. Anything you used to stand up with before is all
gone and will nevermake a return.
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1.7.8 Home SweetHome Theme (2010-09-18 01:40)
If I told you I could redeem it, Im lying.
Everthinking there is a way out is
also a lie that will never come close; itll
dissipate right before your eyes and
youll have nothing leftto lean on.
There are no hands for balance, its all
done in one take,everything;it remains
that way in stone. But that makes nothing
impossible. It makes everything plausible.
There was noreasonto redeem anything
because you can always stand up after
youve sat down, nomatterhow hot the
sun is or how crushed, tilted your mind has
warped. Just as easily a sad expression shifts,
not because it wants to but because it has to.
Thereare extremes and there are outliers
and other termsthat dont mean anything.There are others sitting down that will
stand and come back and find me in ten
years, still alive because eyes can open.
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1.7.9 Nassau (2010-09-18 01:53)
The place you dont have a picture in mind;
a location. Please tell me nothing ofyourself,
always. When people takethe timeto ask, I
would assume thats fine,but. To start with,
oh, yourself. Its the end. Consider it infertile.
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1.7.10 individual stimuli (2010-09-20 02:29)
alp
Led me by hand,
a fine grain grasping
light shed in each,
every direction.
Alive since then tillnow-
one constant; a parable.
For tall men in suits following suit
organized in any column could
never recreate the precipice
found immediately near.
I called to the dead
in my sleep and one,
one hand responded.
Andwhen I woke,
making sure it was real,
how I had always imagined;How I wanted.
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1.7.11 contempo movie wars (2010-09-24 08:11)
We sat on hills, but the only thing we had
at our feet were questions. Time went
without pain, dreaming it wasnt over.
Nobody thoughtit should know.
But the sun stayed in grooved, fixed lines
because it was the only company left.
Listening, Mister List, teemingwith
untapped God says Im not sure.
A coat, some blood, and a puff ofdust.
Folded neat, in a pile, they were left
undera note that reads as follows:
Here lie the remains of a trillion
years at odds. Combined, quanitfied,
theyresulted. Its all we could find.
Nobody knows who leftthis pile.
No one was here when we left.
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1.7.12 N. Land (2010-09-25 03:52)
Has never looked so concise.
Landscapes tilt but tend to
come back as iftheydnever
been gone in the first place.
A man sits outside, stirring.
Bells, pipes, and puddles
are found, not seen. Heard,
though not remembered.
Besidesthe man, everyone
walks a littletoofast, as if
theyd never wantto come
back or turn around orthink.
He said to me, his eyesred,
does it seem tooQuick?
But I was then gone, too.
He sat back down, stirring.
He swattedthe dark withsweeping thoughts: the places
he hadnt been and the people
hesaw before falling asleep.
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1.7.13 Dinosaur Museum (2010-09-25 04:08)
Looking down, reaching a hand he said:
If this isnt where you wantto be you
dont have to worry because there are
goingto be so many other places that,
Will, its importantthat you thinkabout
this. So I looked and tried to remember
but nothing surfaced. No one could find
a body dragging this lake. I curled inside.
And she spoke,I feel as though all Im
doing is looking through a scope. There
is a largerpicture, one thats still forming;
Im falling between strokes,but where?
We lookedbut it was too late. Coming to
terms, signing a myriad, closing doors. I
looked up and tried totalkbut I could
only make a face and muster: Im thirty.
Among other things, dissociation was topofthe list. When everyone agreed that
it was timeto lock the door, someone
looked up and saw it had only been.
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1.7.14 Parasitism (2010-09-25 04:20)
People usually age in a way they least expect.
Nocomputer, progression, or estimation will
evercome close. Its a free radical game.
This month a scientific report was released.
It said that people follow facial expressions.
We are going to start eating how we should.
People make awful rhymes that arent in touch
and try topass it off as a secret passion they
only tellten people about. There, it goes
even furthergone, a train of children off a cliff.
Menu will be a dish/call it bananafish.
I sat in a department store/the loneliest Id ever been.
They asked me why I was there/ I said it was the end.
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1.7.15 Winter List (2010-09-25 04:29)
Says keep me busy.
They call when you
least expect and try
to make things just
a littlebit better.
List says, I wont
turn around even if
there is someone
behind me. But Im
too afraid to look.
And then he thought
ofthe time when
someone was so
afraid to answer a
door that theycounted.
Thinking is toomuch.
People try and thinkall at once and stiffen.
Dont look, dont let
air settle. Theyre stiff.
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1.7.16 concious effort to remain (2010-09-25 04:35)
aloof, entrenched, and embroiled in what?
Some would acknowledge a question, some
wouldpreferthat others lookthe other way.
Are you working to be here or working to
move on. They look down, asking hands,
finding that anyanswerhad been muted.
It was compacted overtime, eroded in
selflessness. I guess the lady was right
afterall because if you dont have your
own, youre never going to have anything
that isntyours.Dont look at me and say
youre not looking at your own face.
He asked how can youput something
togetherwhen there are no edges or
hooksordiggings: friction aintscience.
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1.7.17 Selective March (2010-09-25 04:42)
A piece of paper fell from my wallet recently
and it read of a few things that were out from
mycontrol. Geography, the leading problem,
is one you cant solve at an early age.
Later, it becomes too much; theyll pick you
tothe ground like a tent. Theyll lay you a
foundation and youll never be able to move
again and youll own a home on a dirt road.
I asked someone ifthey could remember at
all. They opened eyes and thoughts and said
That Was All Such A Long Time Ago, Ive
beenthinking, Where have you been?
Cut your legs like roots and letthemgrow.
Leave them in the sun and eyes will run
overthem like theyll never be seen again.
She lookedtowards me withoutcognizance.
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1.7.18 finalazo (2010-09-25 04:45)
It said:
Keeping his secrets in pockets,
never letting anyone know; to him
and him alone the world was blind.
1.8 October
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1.8.1 polymath hands (2010-10-08 22:22)
In the exact way brains go pink to
gray. From inaugural connections; paving
new roads, new maps, new singularities.
Turned blue, dead from use.
And if you ask them,theyll show
through sideways looks, meaningful words
hanging offsentences,turned upright in the
same sense.
When asked, from the black abyss
on the edge of unfinished maps, any mind
not yet made will take hold: the same shapes
they left us from the start.
Its where they all stopped, got out,
and looked around. The start was fun for
a whilebut its over; hands start moving
for reasons already hidden.
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1.8.2 entitlement (2010-10-08 22:31)
finds its way throughdroves,
drones of an organ
streamlined,
consolidated; everything
found good on paper.
It has been killed, by the bones in
fingers in gloves, cold, gray
now dead.
It has been back for some time, now.
Inthe eyes, stern looks unshaken,
set in stone, with no problems looking
forward.
Foundation, letterheads,unimportant
gatherings between the knowns and
haves,the who cares and vague attempts
at apathywithout any real-world know
to, how, orwhere else. Just give it up.
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1.8.3 slow, dizzy shadows (2010-10-08 22:35)
She thought I was looking at her
but I was looking at the dog.
onlythe dog. Dont look.
Now its time to start having. The
kind you dont like to start, the kind
thats easy to finish, but like melded
rust on something you pick up.
It spills out, it stays on your hands
in the Saturday you didnt want to
haveinthe firstplace.
She didnt know her months and she
couldnt remember what day it was.
Ittooktwenty years to learn a few
birthdays. It tooka long timeto figure
out a few things.
It felt like it was waking up all over
again and its like tryingto start the
fire that never should have gone out.
Dont leave me in the rain,
dont look like you did not
know.
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1.8.4 dead dog laughing (2010-10-08 22:46)
That kind ofposition will take away the
finality ofdignity, given or otherwise.
Afterseventy years, theirtime, to become
a cog, a nail; screws maligned, waived,
written off, wrapped, packaged, and sent.
From the ground to a digit, bit and bitby
rows and columns. Theyre terse,its terse.
Finality takes shape in sweeping hands,
guessing,swatting in the dark at ideas,
conspiracies and vague notions ofwho
is who, where who is going; what who
wanted.
Remmy says donttry to find out ifyoure
not ready for the answer and John looks
back, he says it was there in first place.
But hes gone now; it was a writtennote.
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1.8.5 Remmy (2010-10-08 23:03)
Was left and found on the steps, crouched knees,
sleeping hands and pins, pins and needles.
She ran monopoly: one time herboyfriend
told her he couldntpicture her face in his head.
Shedidnt find and never returned to the thought.
She ranwith The Invalids, sent Mr. Maltese a
message or two, gave Nassau the once over,
but not twice,
wondered what anomalocaris meantbut didnt
mean to lookit up.
Rather, she never saw any of it, stayed out ofmind,
and kept ran with others. With reservations, contracts,
the everyday and unimportant.
Out of mind like you like, with no other way youd
haveit.
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1.8.6 Sticks (2010-10-21 00:11)
You think itd be distracting,
noticing a hand rising below
lurching and stiff and twisted.
From The Streets set in stone,
bought by planned meetings
in uncomfortabledreams:
You will not lurch
less than youre told as
quick as every memory
dissipates. They were
cold, stickybetween
yourfingers,
syrup in diseased vesicles.
Called names in long patterns;
they will not be read again.
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1.8.7 Placard (2010-10-21 20:51)
Trudging home from school,
in an empty field that was a
soccer field. There are three
bright letters and the man is
leaning down, talking to me.
Kid,
be careful walking here. A lot
of dead people are around here.
Sounds good.
Making a crawl with
occasional shoelace nags,
He asked to follow and
talked abit more:
Kid,
when I was little,there was
this drain nextto the washer.
Like a sewerdrain.I dreamed once that I fell
through;that I keptfalling.
There were ladders and
everything was shaded like
dirty greenhouse glass.
Do you understand?
I nodded, waving goodbye.
He crouched, sticking
haunches and squintinghiseyes at thingsthat fell through
things pale green.
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1.8.8 All the money in the world wontget you out (2010-10-21 21:09)
We could really use this one,
she says, so I scratch slower.
The coin is my thumbnail.
Looking upand
down between wrong answers,
surrounded by a knot, a tangled
cord ofbloodletters, who already know.
No, not this time, he says, befriending
ahalf-smile.
Well, that is a real shame, breathing in-
You know it?
I say nothing. A television is turned on,
and the only whine in my ear is electric.
Tuesday-
I considered my brisk stride impatient,
where I was headed
but the yelling turned it into a run.
She opened her eyes when she saw me
caught in a lie
quickly, as quickly she could,
would you please go tell someone I have
to go to the bathroom now.
1.9 November
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1.9.1 Skulduggery (2010-11-05 11:03)
Why are you here,
we can suppose you
werent supposed to be
here inthe first place,
that this was found
accidentally.
The exit is usually closest
to the entrance,
said a friend, a reader of
an author. How these spider
nets meet is beyond mine,
mute supplication,
was the worst phrase Ive
ever read. And how did
I find it.
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1.9.2 Highway Theme (2010-11-11 01:08)
Its a password,
ashort
cut.
You dontthink
of being here
until its happened
again.
They are not saying
good-bye,
they say come back,
try again
we will
be here.
Once you remember,
you remember.
You can remember.
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1.9.3 antimatter (2010-11-25 02:29)
In the rut, drawn,
steaming.
These walls have
changed more than
Ihave.
So we sit turned,
facing away
the music,
waiting.
To name your
slope anticlimactic;
its not the first,
notyetthird.
Where do,
where can we
go from here?
hesays.I believe weve
been led,
pausing,
lead boots.
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1.9.4 Outside (2010-11-25 02:36)
Open-ended conversations are dangerous.
Anything can and will happen
outside,
To prevent children from crying, he would pretend
the bump was much worse.
This needs to be cut off, right now!
so They laughed.
and She left a note:
I do not want the everyday
tell me what wont and will
noteverhappen, you please.
There was a torn paperback on the floor. I picked it up.
On the bottom-right corner of each page, she drew a clock.Each page had a differenttime. It wound over and over.
Even then, it was unoriginal.
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1.9.5 Mr. Sloan (2010-11-25 03:00)
Walked around the impromptu
market, dragging an axe. Telling
anyone he could aboutthe deal
hedgotten. He wore denim with
a long beard. He had seashell
hearing. He shook hands too long.
In 1993, his furniture was donated
to aconsignment store the next
county over. In a simple trunk, they
found soiled notebooks, each page
filled back to back. The handwriting
was backwards, readable when mirrored.
His scrawlings sat in the open. The store
ownerwouldnt let anyone read them.
A local news crew did a shortfeature.
Thenightit aired, three girls were
spotted at a local gas station. Theydid not wear shoes.
A truckran the only red light in
Nassau county. The driver didnt
see any scorching or ash, but he did
see a haphazard scrap of paper on
theroad. He kept driving. A week
passed before anyone grabbed it.
Very sincerely yours,
Jen,Anne,
Jane.
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1.9.6 Indomitable (2010-11-25 03:04)
Theres this nice Epsilon symbol here.
Im not sure what this one means,
but I remember the people who leftit.
Back there, we had to repaint everything.
I let some kids back therewith a handful
of markers, like I usually do, you know,
but Iwasprettyout ofit. Later we had a
fewparents complain about the drawings.
So we repaintedit, like I said.
I dont remember what they look like.
To be completelyhonestwith you, I was
drunk. But if I told you that, this place
1.10 December
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1.10.1 Sea Side (2010-12-02 17:42)
Back to the House
(the house!) house house house, sewer, (skewer?)
We told it mattered to some;
it did mattersome.
Inchains,
chains.
Please stop, Im
nostalgic.
you need me.
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1.10.2 Rhododendron (2010-12-02 18:44)
The truth is Im beyond scared. Past the proverbial point of no return, further and farther than my last
footprint. Thats all.
I remember driving past it every week. I imagined what could be taking place, ten or twenty years agoand
how it would all fit.
I have no preference for color or taste. Flavor doesnt fit my mouth and my eyes fall flat. This though,this
had shape. It had dimension.
So I drove and made a deluge out of it; the possible Saturday mornings with lights coming in at perfect
angles.
But I only considered one day ofthe week once a week. It was a nice dream.
Once, I fell into a daze and closed my eyes. I knew it was going to happen. Lanes were merging, and, among
otherthings, I had to pull over.
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1.10.3 Radio Poems (2010-12-10 15:33)
88.7
Not much here, move along.
Nothing has changed. We will
be here by the ends of the world.
107.5
Same, same, same.
Keep it going. Keep
touching, webbingebb.
99.7
Weve made it.
The trudges are no longer deep.
There is meaning in spontaneity.
It wont last, however.
105.5
This proves it.
Polyphonic proof.
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1.10.4 Guessing Game (2010-12-12 12:45)
When wed finished running, everyone changed out. But no one paid attention to who had taken off wha
Identities were assumed based on appearances, which only would have worked a few minutes prior to, wel
its prettyobvious.
You thinkhes Skinner? he pointed, wagging his thumb.
With a slighttilt, the thickman nodded. The man in question smiled.
Nope, its me. I am. he answered.
Really?
Conversations and accusations continued;it was a guessing game. Arms flew, hands shook, again, and people
withdrew layers they had forgottenabout years and years ago.
But my eyes kept returning to something strange. One of them wasnt talking, he was just sitting there
staring. The angles of his face and eyes were obtuse. He kept staring at the one called Skinner and his eye
hadntmovedonce.
This made me slightly uneasy, since, after all, this is what everyone was waiting for. The Big Talk, as it was
billed.
But too many walls were torn down. Anyone was allowed in and no one had realized.
I started walking towards him and heard a conversation about prying open a door in a that house and
starting acatalogue. But one thing at a time.Hey, I started, extending a hand.
He turned his head towards me. He didnt say anything. I tookmy hand back.
I didnt catch your name, again, lightly.
Musgrove. There wasnt a hint ofanything.
Is that a last name or your other?
Musgrove.
Right, well then. Ill talk to you later Mr. Musgrove, I finished. He was already looking back at Skinner.
I felt bad, too. Because I knew what it all meant. No one else knew. No one had any idea. Everything was
out in the open. It was an open book.
Here was everything.
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1.10.5 TentativeFiction (2010-12-12 12:49)
Was proclaimed the best by
pros; even Errol said so.
It was the progression into
cloud thinking, computing
the knowing and having
no where to begin.
It was written in Braille
and bestsaidexcept,
it was the word
on the tip of your tongue.
Now youve lostit all.
As soon as it was here,
warming your hands just a little
its gone. It never existed.
Vanished.
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1.10.6 The Streets (2010-12-23 12:18)
Like lots of others, I took letters forgranted. Iput them in a neat pile.
When school got out Id get the phone calls. I squirmed on the line.
He talked about offshore oil wells; things he could see from home.
Lateron I remember being ecstatic, and it was unwarranted.
Nobody recognized anyone. Trees fell, sand blew.
Like that, years pass.
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Chapter 2
2011
2.1 January
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2.1.1 Delta, delta (2011-01-24 19:27)
Self-worth isntanythingwithout a label.
Its asserted. Its either called something or its
Justanotherpensive, a thinker, a pedestal,
without the laurels or boils or trademarks.
The kind of people you seldom thinkabout.
It goes all the way down,
without anyone knowing.
While the curve is rising,
until its finally here.
2.2 February
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2.2.1 Finite Morning (2011-02-07 18:33)
Eyed met like the realization of a problem,
thetilt-nod-what-have-you.
The time for work when time is toomuch.
When segments are toomuch;
frowned upon talking.
Asking to stay awake,
above and beyond.
And getting whats needed,
with no idea to start.
Who is lonely.
We are, you know,
The rest was blank
like the backs of unused hands.
Float the way,
feelbettertomorrow;
the Concrete is nothing.
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2.2.2 Struck (2011-02-23 16:40)
Do not do because
youre an aspiring,
well-thoughtand
innocentpersonality
You are not.
Do not trybecause
youre so far, its
all uphill from here,
its a given right.
It is not, you are not
Special, oranything
ofthe like, the kind who
didnt wantto get dirty
hands.
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2.2.3 Now, we go (2011-02-23 17:03)
Knowing is distant assumption.
Really knowing is drowning.
With nothing leftto the group,
theres no reason to enjoy the
company.
And its why self-censoring is
so difficult,
it feels too good, treating your
words under his acclaim.
Dont quote someone unless
you know them personally,
no,
better yet,
dont quote anyone unless youre
there when they say it.
You dont know,
you dont know it.
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2.2.4 Decoder Song (2011-02-23 17:10)
Drencher is the monster that plans my nightmares, one at a time.
Putting idiot lips in motion, if I dont like idiots, and moving snow
in the name of greater gravity. Drencher is the one that makes people
thinkthey have to stick to form, any form at all, and that they have to
sound like something besides themselves. Because what theyresaying,
the way they say it, isnt important. Thats what theythink. Thats what it
makes themthink, because Drencher is not a him or her, but the ill-intent
I find in Winter.
Thank you,
&
See you soon!
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2.2.5 indicative (2011-02-23 17:23)
Because wereback
snow is gone
and things
becomebright.
When yourewrite
over andover
it can be tough
to snap out of it, but
under the right
conditions, youll be
ableto remind yourself
about wind, the sun,
whateverelse you need.
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2.2.6 We are not the Counting Clock (2011-02-23 17:26)
and not, repeat
not, the book
you list on a bestselling
list.
Not the form done over,
over and over
(and over and over)
oranythingtheythink is good.
They thinkitsawful,
and the quiet, the wondering,
day-dreaming,
know exactly what happened.
They lookaround,
and see if anyone notices.
Itdoesnttake long
to look back down.
2.3 March
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2.3.1 odd lights, strangeangeles (2011-03-08 23:44)
Come back to me the
flood weights,bearing,
beating down. A last
question before
slipping:
Man on the hill
Friend of the room
and Remmy,
whereve you been?
Staticbuilt,
broken lenses,
fog, etc.
onward,
to see ifanything
returns a stare
Friend of the hill,
and Grays in the hall
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2.3.2 #2 and the premise of five people (2011-03-09 19:27)
In line for the promo,
each standing at a certainangle
angeles
and Im still not sure whats being
said
only happy to be back,
staring in prime sublimates
say it like pilates,
Greek
Its an educated guess.
Wait,
Archimedes was greek
now, to destroy italics;its the slant you say them
2.4 May
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2.4.1 Affodell (2011-05-07 00:54)
Blue space is where you are.
No thinking at least, no real thinking
was done here. Donttell what you think
Whats felt, buried or hung or dried
and on and on, an old man holed in.
Keepme buried, he says.
No puzzles, they say. No more puzzles.
A wave strongerthan a winding road
andgaps and leaps and jumps
With the people caught in mirrors
talking over others,
all others
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2.4.2 One single individual (2011-05-07 05:10)
Ill walk with a warm sun and breathe.
Its not that nothing ends; everything ends.
Its about the new page, the new flash spout
when you werent looking.Give your everythingto the light
so you can takeeverything in.
Or music, or something.
Sleep can do that to you because its cement.
Take a break and cut some strings, as thingswont make sense and they shouldnt anyway.
Things things say, Move right along and dont play the world as jokes.
Hes right, I think.
-
Is love a dog from hell?
Nah
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