Saturday, September 4, 2010


I'm okay with dying
because one day
Tyrannosaurus Rex's will nest in the spot where my bike used to sit
brand new and rusting.

I live in a time of domestication-
metal has time to solidify and we take for granted the ability to change water from cold
to hot and back again with a turn of the wrist.

Caging of birds stunts growth but makes sweet music in the morning.

I'll keep you-
cover you in blankets at night and contemplate setting you free
when your bird songs sound like wails and I'm trying to sleep.

Found this

I just want to be backstage with you holding each other's noses so that we can't smell the cigarette smoke
and the fear
and the stench of brand new perfume.
I just want to laugh inappropriately and not be ashamed of the pieces of lettuce between my teeth from the salad we shared but never finished.
I just want to tell you I have something to say and stutter and sweat and laugh even more because of it.

The concert is always overrated and we'll wonder why they scream,
why they get dressed up and dance without dancing,
without ever moving their feet.
We'll dance backstage- separately, but together-
touching the only way two people can.

It is too dark to see each other here, so we can relax our muscles.