In the reason. In the yellow of the snow. A halo of piss to prove our angels were still listening. The slow dog paddle of hope. As I wore my skirt. As I was worn by it. No stockings. Just skin. Fluorescent as his touch plugged it in.
In a blue bulb. That resembles who I am now. In a blizzard of ion it sank. Not hot enough to explode.
Just warm enough to think it could burst.
In the dark. In the hours after life goes to bed. I still sat at the head of this palsy trial. A jury of fingers debating. Guilty for certain. But of what?
A verdict looming in every word.
Justice seducing every Prometheus left on my list.
Devoted exclusively to the creative process. Here you will see photojournaling, poetry, prose, an occasional review--journaling or philosophical writing can be found on our other blogs. This is our attempt to use our imaginations. Enjoy!
Sunday, February 04, 2007
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2007
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February
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- WINTER-LIKE SPRING
- The Curling Brew
- Our Consuming Fire
- Celluloid Statisticians
- thought
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- Under love
- Clytemnestra's Sister
- The New Hector
- Bullet
- Lochlyn & Devlin - 17th February 2007
- talk talk
- new review
- for a better world play golf on the moon
- halo
- Class of '07
- MADCAP Collage
- Justice
- Fox, dreaming of the space between human and beast
- Crossing the Water
- Into the Sun , bleeding and sunning
- shout
- NEW REVIEW
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February
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2 comments:
i really admire your style of writing.
I agree with CJ. Not a word gone to waste - fully loaded writing - every single word is worth devouring slowly.
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