Saturday, May 16, 2009


In the ashes the ashes. The margins spoke the language. Say nothing of chalk ghosts shoal the remainder of industry the heaven the motion the cannery circular and no thank you we don’t quit.

Before time before the book the world knew about dogs and there were wolves and the hearts of dogma knew that they were prolific. they were fast. the woods was a secret.

Looking for archetypes in all the wrong places. Don’t quit because the weather is all we have in the ashes the ashes. Longing the longing before toilets giving everything back to remain perfect untouchable the face of god.

Opera pink the paint screaming his name in the ashes the ashes. nobody howling questions childhood finger on the trigger. the river holding on to the bend the bend called to say you were drunk again. Before I go, shame everlasting.

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