Thursday, March 29, 2012

fragment from a handheld device #1

there is a flavour of air, in each September,
that tips me down a rabbithole, now
more than twenty-five years long.

i greet it like the mother one must love.

 these lines directly inspired by Karuna Chandrashekar, at her blog Hysterics and Poetics

enlarged, enveloped, and allowed to breathe at Maekitso's Cafe

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

economics 101

how is it
that we never seem to calculate
the expense of happiness

until we arrive home
and turn out our pockets?

these lines were directly inspired by  Arian Tejano’s

Monday, March 26, 2012


in the future
beds seem
hard cold places

one reclines
straight, still
under gossamer
or metal

(if present)
hard cold places

rooms all
cold white light...

Fuck That.
i’ll have a duvet
the size of Ireland
and deepquiet as a fjord
warm as a boyhood summer
a pillow that takes three days to cross
and a room dim and friendly as an old dog.

Saturday, March 24, 2012


we float


  we are
     calculated mid-flight
        our past:  a curved conception
          of perfect beauty

               we are
                  an equation
                    our present:  a sum
                       of averaged and intangible points
                         and infinite tangents
                            with perfect beauty
                                we are
                                  a mathematical purity
                                    our future:  ordained
                                      by the plane which cuts
                                       our paper hats.

                                         we are parallel.

                                         para- ll -el.


                                      infinite in
                                  but always
                                 and finally               
                                unable  to  touch

                           at apogee burned, blinded by light
                         wings already melting.
                        at perigee, in ageless dark
                       stuffed down the barrel; buried
                     near the target
                    and  So  so    cold.

                  subject to
                the gravity
              of the situation
           surrendering to the fall


like cannonballs

Monday, March 19, 2012

advice to travellers

whenever you come upon a well
you should lift its bucket to your lips
and drink deeply.  wells may be few,
and far between.  thirst
is always nearby.

when lost at sea always sail
in the direction of the dragons, sea- serpents,
and mer-people.
they have escaped, as you must, the cage
of latitude and longitude.

when in a foreign city, take care.
to be wordless is not to be silent
and you are shouting at the passers-by.

when you meet a stranger
offer a name.  it is harder to do harm
to another whose name one knows.  do not
offer your secret name.  it is easier to do harm
to another whose secret name one knows.
do not seek to know names.

never draw a map in hope
of helping a friend to find you.

when you have drawn a map in hope
of helping a friend to find you,
keep it safely in your pocket.   points
of departure can be tricky, destinations
are trickier still, and maps, and people,  and other things,
are so easily mislaid on journeys.  besides,
no doubt your friend already owns a map
and will not thank you.

if you find yourself in a desert
looking at a shining city,
head towards the shining city.
if you find yourself in a shining city
looking at a desert,
head towards the desert.
if you find yourself at home
drink deeply and then
cover your well.  admit no travellers.

if you go to any city, or desert, often enough
or stay long enough
it will become a lover, and
travellers are the death
of lovers.