Friday, July 8, 2011


"perhaps the most terrible (or wonderful) thing that could happen to an imaginative youth, aside from the curse (or blessing) of imagination itself, is to be exposed without preparation to life outside his or her own sphere - the sudden revelation that there is a there out there."

tom robbins, jitterbug perfume

i think it's best
we never meet,
heroes against heroes
and such.
you talk like you know
but i could be anyone ~
i'm none of those
things, actually,
and if i'd give me
a second i could
and remember art imitates life...
i forgot that
i sold my soul for
a butterfinger in '96
and i forgot
that i had an overbite
the size of
the grand canyon
and i forgot i
told myself that
was something you read
on the back of a
milk box...
these verbs i use are not applied
to the life that i
know and use.
i am ~
and this.
and this.
previously mentioned.
indicated, the
welcome to
new york, i


1 comment:

  1. Within the waking moments of not knowing, you find something familiar. We can always be the things that we have been, and become what we want to be. Not getting lost and ending up on the back of a milk box, thats the punchline.

    Sometimes its better to just breathe out, stop letting useless wanders fill your lungs with their smoke and mirrors. If I knew you, I wonder how long it would last. How would the words dance as the moments slid by?

    You can find a great deal of a person in their words. Fear and loss, love and faith. Heart. Now thats a very important one. You can see deeper into their true being, then you could ever find by watching them speak.

    I wonder what you are like, how do you move through your day in that deeply sad gray city. How do you find those moments of unsung glory, hidden among the sewers and the loud rattle of the trains as they pass underfoot. Are there echoes of the past that scream from certain points along the daily walks here and there?

    Like a timid mouse I shall stand softly off to the side. I shall watch in wonder as your mind unfolds and the colors flow from the tips of your fingers. My whiskers shall perk up as I catch glimpse of a world which I have never known.

    Savor your 13 minutes, enjoy the smoke. Smile for yourself and for the strangers yet to come. Revel in the memories that are worth holding onto. Know that there are those out there that you have left your mark on.

    Why do we hold onto the memories, long after the people have let go of our hand?


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