Sunday, May 16, 2010

Dog in Cone


The structure that we find ourselves in. So ironically impenetrable. Layers upon waves upon rows. The familiar face of an alien. Invading your nightmares. Eyes and shapes and colors. That distort and distinguish. Comfort from utter pain.

I've seen the models. I've studied their directions. And structured those things in ways that would become this. Every moment the DNA for tomorrow's deconstruction. Like moving piles of sand. Impossible to mold and percentages lost.


Staring at the lines. Swelling throbbing saying something. Sharpening and falling completely off the map. Dampening expectations. Siphoning the reasoning off. Interpreting and molding them to fit that day's dawn. Draw the shades and retire.

Thursday, May 6, 2010

Lonely Man Looks Up


I'm just a lonely man. Looking up at a skyscraper. And its outward reach. And it's inner workings. Reaching out of itself. Through wires and screens. Bending the sensation of touch. Into the inner workings of dreams. I'm just a lost piece. Finding the larger puzzle. Kicked and scattered and waiting. To be clinched. Solutions may vary. Like shifts in the landscape. Green with every new day. Erased and unknowing.