Except for the eight-legged horse

the ancient Norse Gods
never died. They knock on doors
mid-week, hammer in

rainstorms, burst into
crowsong at shiny things or
when a person dies.

it used to be important

i struggled to reach
you, but the silence piled on
itself-- heavy, and cold.

#17

one day people will
realize that i'm not just
a pawn in this game.

dreamt it

hypothetically,
if we all slept at the same
time, no one would know.

the big bang

we all wonder how
everything began but not
how it all will end

bigger than that

after all of the
debris lifted, what we saw
was the beginning.

dead serious

depending on what
happens tomorrow i might
end up in the ground.

phone calls at three a.m.

solipsism will
only last as long as our
minds allow it to.

i sent it to her

she had a blue dress
on the ground with sticks and leaves
me breathless, watching.

untitled

Pull safety pin.
Operating is instinct,
And all fires, gone.

untitled

It is too late now.
Gurgle, bubble, fizzle, brap!
Angry guts of mine.

untitled

halves halves and more halves
on halves, i've wasted paper
never feeling whole

untitled

she was cute i guess
A face like a china doll
far too innocent

the end was near

i would like to apologize for forgetting about this blog for a while.
i'm going to do my best to try and make it work like it once did.

on a couple of side notes, everyone should go to Sunny Outside Press and get Hosho McCreesh's new book of poems, "For All These Wretched, Beautiful, & Insignificant Things So Uselessly & Carelessly Destroyed..." because it's amazing and he has supported the 5/7/5 project, so it's only fair that he gets support from us.

and of course, if you haven't ever checked it out, head on over to the GPP and see what they're all about.

tell your friends.

think, type, submit.

5/7/5

to lie still, be silent

as the last light of
the afternoon stretches cat-
like across his face

she is feigning sleep--
like some demi-deity,
thinking: this is good.