The Tony Danza...The Tony Danza Tapdance ExtravaganzaThe Tony Danza...
How we struggle
to stay still! We stain our
photographs with
&
RecollectionIt is four o'clock: she, (on the back porch), isRecollection
beginning to wonder
if this is always the way she will come
into this feeling-
so suddenly
itchy, so
thin-skinned. She, rewriting memory, obliterating it(self) ov
These great-turning days.I could write about breaking.These great-turning days.
But saying where things began to end, yes, that
might be harder--beginnings like aimless clouds, not seen until the grass underfoot is drenched in half-dark. It was
December: the air burned and my skin-thin
brown jacket was
a dried leaf curled
around my shoulders.
. You said you saw
a bird out of the nest,
a devil with bushbaby eyes,
(and you were
afraid, but not afraid
enough) and so you did the only thing you
could. You, yes,
you, who would spend you
The uncanny...The Uncanny, Part One of TwoThe uncanny...
Our histories rewound one day at a time: today, it was our bodies inside out, it was the fog
that turns us inside out and throws your teeth
out of your mouth and melts the lines of there
and here. And one, balking, choking in Sheep's Sorrel
and low fall sun! And in the yellow grass your eyes,
no, our eyes are hot stones, sour olives with no
pimento. The blue-bottles in greenbrown blades
slick with dense strings of something, webs maybe,
abandoned spider homes foreclosed, and we speak
the language of the b
rest areamy america's a loss collection an invention a requiem in b(urned bridge) flatrest area
reborn in insect-peppered roadside sacrament leaking dust to color brush
creeping climbing
hills to frame the big empty it gets me
thinking
pain is just
something we live with it ceases only
at the end of the life
that it
begins with
and I spend every precious instant (in altered states of existence)
crossing lines avoiding eyes creating dista
Open Upto tellOpen Up
the tale
of teeth
is to
truly
believe
in the bitter truth
of roots
in the loss
when one must leave
all the
inner strength it takes
to grace a face with glowing
grin
to try to show yourself
while the world
works to shut
you in
Articles of Temporary Fedoras.We're Dreaming blindly and the roof is coming in We're straight, we're temperedArticles of Temporary Fedoras.
and the carpet smells like Gin Alabaster honey, white like your teeth - in this tin - comence, come last and the ceiling taste like Sin.
We're scared
we're hot we're calm we're soft we're baking in this oven, Lily
nice to hear from you
xo!
--
an antique arms and armor expert
--
----
If I ever meet myself," said Zaphod, "I'll hit myself so hard I won't know what's hit me.
My gallery : [link]
xo!
--
an antique arms and armor expert
xo!
--
an antique arms and armor expert
--
My art website: [link]
My metaphysics and conspiracy website: [link]
--
Due to Economic Crisis, The Light at the End of the Tunnel has. Been. Turned. (Off.)
--
[link]
--
As a member of *Writers-Workshop we are excited to share with you a quick update!
You have received this note because you are listed as a member of this club. If you no longer wish to be a member, please drop us a note and we will remove you from our memberlist.
Thank you!
I rather like your gallery, too
xo!
shane
--
an antique arms and armor expert
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