Saturday, March 1, 2008
as i walked out of the gym at one in the morning on a friday night, after running in place on a machine for a few miles, which is something i do sometimes, i saw a carton of milk launch from the window of a speeding sport utility vehicle, miss the stumbling drunken teenagers it was aimed at, and explode on the sidewalk behind them. they looked confused and drunk and slightly afraid. then, down the block, a man was standing in the middle of the street with an overturned bicycle, which he repeatedly picked up and smashed on the ground, over and over again, screaming "this tire is a piece of shit! this tire is a piece of shit!" (i suppose he was screaming it to me since there was no one else around.) when i got home the palm trees were silhouetted against the clouds. my first thought: "who does that?" my second thought: "life is weird."
Friday, February 29, 2008
sunlight is walking in the way the roots spread, invisible beneath us, like fireworks exploding underground, in hesitant fingers of survival, seeking out the source. inside my belly, a pear tree is growing like excitement. outside this cave of stars, the heat is rising. the air is pregnant with perfume and smoke. the oxygen around us is swollen and waiting to burst. it pulses ferocious through our lungs. our throats grow thick with words. the cherry blossoms have turned out so beautiful because they are trying to look like you. within the right balance, all things tend toward life. when i stop looking at you, the sky is going to fill up. i am okay with that.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
my tongue is grand central station, when what it needs is to be a jellyfish on the bottom of the atlantic. there is too much to say and no way to get there. my spine is clacking like a cable car up san francisco hills with the sobs that wrack this frame, eyes like a busted fire hydrant in the summer heat, when barefoot kids need some way to cool off and water is the most fun. you are a building falling in slow motion. i want to catch you, but i am just a person. you are too much to hold. i can feel the city buzzing. it feels like the inside of my stomach. all those people, all that pain and love. i wish i could make it better for them. and for you too.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Sunday, February 24, 2008
it is an overpass in here. there are swamps inside your knees, and crocodiles who are lazy. this doorway is built out of the way you look. and when i walk through it i will build a tower out of electric guitars. it will sound like a stairway to heaven. but i can't figure out how to make sense. my blood is made of tea kettles. all day it has been the rain, falling like a car accident. i want to curl up in the warmth, be still, and maybe sleep.