Thursday 3/31/2011 12:56:00 AM

little wolves. on the last of their fangs. accuse the moon of treason. but the carcasses remain just where they lay. eager to be consumed.

weray claws confess. that the hunt is empty. hollow dolls bursting with blood. not the same.

she had always planned to keep her stories to herslef. dirty dresses to be taken off in private. sticky zipperseager for a tug.

snoring houses. full of rooms. burying her. as blizzard a would. her tiny shovel heavy with the whims of choices. three bears. come home. everything different. and only a ghost to blame.

the bricks as soft as paper. as the piglet builds. its weighted houses. a tale of dominoes.

Spaced too close.

Tuesday 3/29/2011 01:23:00 AM

the bird on its string. indemnifying the wind. the person on the ledge. accuses gravity of murder.

knots will be tied. difficult to undo. the hours will breathe. their sharp edges. not caring. what it opens.

the pauses. the stunted exhales of puppets. as the wind blows across their stages. an icy danc.. The inevitable leading the chaos.

time's arrow pointed toward the past. as heavy wings stumble upon a fading path.

gravity like mountains. to fall from or to scale. the decision like needles. stitches far behind. the pace of the wounds.

Monday 3/28/2011 01:30:00 AM

how quietly sleeps the lamb inside the jaws of the lion. like ribbons undone on pretty packages. the blood demands choices. the skin speculates outcomes.

the wound swells. until cauterized by touch. the grace of wonder at the tender of her press. we climb our ladders in quicksand. The higher we rise, the faster we sink. the numbers tease. equations near to trust. the buoys dance among the rough waves. a series of small steps greater than the distance they span.

a lie. a color. the waning lantern. gentle with moments overlooked. a prison. a parchment. a game too often played. by poets and madmen.

eyes closed. hands empty. and arms weak with impatient reflections.

Sunday 3/27/2011 12:48:00 AM

the future watches us from high upon its perch. a predator by nature. drowning in our whens. we tread the choppy waters. to breathe. to live. to be hunted another day.

it's the window that lies to us. when we look out. the blunt of the world is misleading. it's edge is sharp.

the future pretends to know. where we are. where we're going. the predator. realizing its prey is mutable. sours of the hunt. her fangs decay.

the domino teeters on the brink of a fall. the burden of choice. like so many strays. the cauldron bubbles. ripe with spells. the witches continue to stir. the world stabs at the glass. but the window remains unbroken.

Friday 3/25/2011 01:02:00 AM

Effect is cause. In the tunnels we dig through molting skins. Working backward from the circumstance to the event. Debating with the parallels. Which of us is real.

She still cries for the wolf even as it gnaws on grandmother's bones. it is hungry. the irrefutable logic of necessity.

the reflection. not so very different from the face. mirrors at every corner. like boomerangs. needle and thread. sewing up the holes in the skin we've yet to wear.

it's too tight now. but back then. it was loose enough to dance inside.

Wednesday 3/23/2011 12:18:00 AM

the sunrise talks through its fingers. scribbles on the waning pile. choices. the shaking door. filthy with conditions. when. the open lock. that senses when. tease if. patient songs. fickle answers. collaborating on the composition of a man.

she wakes the tornado. nudges only. and whispers of how. close is never near enough. the casual circle of life. the end. devours the beginning.

she sleeps on the storm. raindrops for pillows. thunder for dreams. the world in flashbulbs. pictures taken. permanent images. of broken bulbs and long corridors. the wag of their tails as the monsters pace. at the base of her garden.

swollen with hunger.

dead flowers. tiny wakes. for fractions of the now. their many mouse traps. moving closer to the hole. caressing the atom. as the molecules diminish. her caverns moist with the math. her head heavy with science. of the failing equations.

even the smallest numbers she knows. are still divisible. by one.

Sunday 3/20/2011 01:24:00 AM

sleep in earthquakes. the shudder of when. a clock expiring toward an empty climax. the lions on the plain. pushing down their hunger for the hunt. the hyenas at their backs. poised to take the spoils.

it's written not in words. the language of flesh. feigns depths it's yet to know. the blood insists. a heavy ink. on weightless pages.

as it is. all transients. temporary. pipers in the throngs of rats. songs that can only be heard after you stop listening for them.

her handkerchief around her neck. as she considers. the boasts of hours now impotent. skipping stones. on waters she has waded. crayon scribbles on oceans she has drowned in.

Saturday 3/19/2011 01:19:00 AM

the broken dogs bark. as fierce as the silence that surrounds them. blind curs looking in on paradise. patient. as they wait. for the world to end. candy houses close to the vein. and the heavy bricks that insist the choice. after we've been through all those pages.

the siren. like a warm bath of lye. dissolving. the barriers between. time and taste. raindrops on the glass. searching for another place. a reason that isn't there.

rain and wind playing with the threads. as she dutifully darns those holes. it's the repetition that comforts her. as her icicles begin to melt.

Friday 3/18/2011 01:13:00 AM

the theater is in the skin. the audience and the play are the same. melted snowflakes on the tip of a child's tongue. as the winter feigns its end. stubborn carcasses patiently waiting for the scavengers to pick up on their stench.

the script is in the touch. the jeers and applause are no different. icicles on her chin. tomorrow in thin lies. the bull wears its horns at both ends.

reasoning with the witches. about the merits of spells. discussing with the demons the benefits of hell.

as the choices present themselves on the slick of the glass. a series of parallel views on the same single view. just one question.

no one to ask.

Tuesday 3/15/2011 11:56:00 PM

if it dies. and it always does. there are still choices to be made.

the rain like velvet. teases the air. a million tiny tongues. salivating on the dark's ripe clitoris.

distances fetch the frail math from crevices thick with repetition. distraught children. their soiled diapers chapping their tender asses.

the architect is memory as the bricks siphon into walls. the structure is bound to all those shadows within it. the deaf ghosts that don't hear the siren. and the blind survivors that cannot find the exit. the condemned congregate. flies on mounds of shit. living and dying in relative fractions.

because the whole is gone. dull shards of skin. drowned in irony's urine.

Monday 3/14/2011 12:54:00 AM

now it's quiet. the deaf are everyone. all sounds come on the condition of knowing what was said.

now the rain has forgotten. the flood receded within. where rickety rowboats and splintered oars chart the course the void has left.

now is when the ransom is offered. for the things we want back. now is how much we are willing to pay. for things lost. once alive. to be returned to us in coffins.

the math dictates moments. but perpetuity is the domain of touch.

Thursday 3/10/2011 11:51:00 PM

playing to the storm. pennies and pebbles scrape the void. wishes and boredom. the sovereign questions of living make every answer suspect. the moan of the rain. in the throes of flood. open locks on empty cages.

listening to the quiet rage. the hiss of the wind. whispering in every ear. poisoning each dream. as sleep possesses.

toying with the percentages. a jumble of numbers ferret through the flesh. preying to the average. the menial chores of decimals left in the laps of gods.

brutal the rain falls. in daggers and shards. an impossible task. of choosing which purgatory. each fierce raindrop made impotent. as it strikes hard on the glass.

3/10/2011 01:18:00 AM

treason's of flesh. the ghosts flirt with her equations. we've spent too much. selling ourselves to strangers. there is no profit in love. or sex. just the numbers we are left with. to turn over in our heads. dead flies in glass containers. left to die in their repetitions.

once i knew. the reflex of choice. that we are victims of its whims. missing pieces of chalk. gone. but still showing up on that slate.

once i knew the motivations of wolves. a weak god performing his math. on hungry ghosts.

an empty box choosing when. someone would determine its sacrifice.

Wednesday 3/09/2011 12:20:00 AM

integers imagine the text of touch. in negative and positives. cosine and differential equations. sometimes the decimal goes too far.

and we are alone. without the numbers that made us whole.

scribbling on her pussy. cuts like ink. bleed through the cautions of time. the shortcomings of men.

the future in fractions of skin. puzzles to solve. and broken fingernails in the crease of the wolf's grin. to fool the piglets and their houses.

the hours in useless lamps. all her choices dead bulbs.

she can see in the dark, but not well enough to know. whether the remainders are friend or foe.

Monday 3/07/2011 01:27:00 AM

the villain arrives in pieces. puzzles to assemble. architects of the lost. all of her dominoes tremble. as she nudges the first one to fall.

the hours spoiling under heavy blankets. cold for the world out there. the mosquitoes find her skin. their swarm opening the zipper. that reveals the feast. she never knew was there.

the hunger proves itself compassionate. in trickles of rain amongst the snow. choices she grieves are too hungry to reason with. snakes in the trees. drowning in venom.

she wanders. as pilots and madmen construct the map. quietly pointing out the places where she had a name.

Saturday 3/05/2011 12:33:00 AM

places in the dark. lilting fingers wide with chance. the strings dance long before the puppets move.

from the corner. the liar dares another ruse. flesh wrestles with the turn of the screw.

the ghost in the foyer threatens wrath. the prison is empty. the villains are loose.

time traces its heavy tracks. craters in the snow. holding her hostage. though no ransom is demanded.

places in the dark. scribble the skin across her bones.

still.

the corpse is not convinced.

the cliched math of jesters and kings. leaves nothing for the heir.

Thursday 3/03/2011 01:00:00 AM

the logic of footsteps pushes her forward. in limping breaths. taking time in shallow cuts. heavy baskets on her shoulder. rife with journeys unrequited.

the winter wanes. in cold furies of disobedience. an angry child denied attentive audience. the mountain lion and the tit mouse play to their cards. wagers and fate colliding in a hard mix.

all colors lost.

what is gravity except the measure of our burdens. a challenge to lift those weights.

choices wear her in broken zippers. this famine of touch. resolves to broken switches and dead bulbs. every eye upon the clock as she counts the years aloud.
the monkey confers with the snake. a union of some deliberance. the apple argues with gravity just before it loses its grip on the tree. a gesture of innate dissidence.

she's been as high as anyone can be. seen both the mountain tops and the deepest valleys.

she's been that high and will be again. Not towering over, but staring up from the bottom of the ladder.

still. everything. even the highest kite. in the angriest wind. they all fall.

eventually.

Tuesday 3/01/2011 01:09:00 AM

the foul of decision fills her head. time like salt and vinegar. simultaneously preserves and sours.

the open bridge. she is ready to cross. no waiting for proper footing. or the cold grind of steel interlocking. fingers on the crease of her hips. empty scales weighing the oblivion that befriends. the outside that looks in upon. her paper dungeons. swollen with strange faces that still know.

the math at her feet. grovelling minions. searching the sky for gods that no longer exist. everything arranged precisely. in a long series of numbers. everything except where to begin.

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