Fortune, A Cookie: Told Me

YOU ARE
ADMIRED
FOR YOUR
ADVENTUR
-OUS WAYS
(In Bed)

Howl

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by

madness...

Cat's Out of the Bag

He said
"pussy,"
then de-
clawed
her in
the dark,
darkly
clawing.

Si Tu Me Olvidas

Quiero que sepas
una cosa.

Tú sabes cómo es esto:
si miro
la luna de cristal, la rama roja
del lento otoño en mi ventana,
si toco
junto al fuego
la impalpable ceniza
o el arrugado cuerpo de la leña,
todo me lleva a ti,
como si todo lo que existe:
aromas, luz, metales,
fueran pequeños barcos que navegan
hacia las islas tuyas que me aguardan.

Ahora bien,
si poco a poco dejas de quererme
dejaré de quererte poco a poco.

Si de pronto
me olvidas
no me busques,
que ya te habré olvidado.

Si consideras largo y loco
el viento de banderas
que pasa por mi vida
y te decides
a dejarme a la orilla
del corazón en que tengo raíces,
piensa
que en esa día,
a esa hora
levantaré los brazos
y saldrán mis raíces
a buscar otra tierra.

Pero
si cada día,
cada hora,
sientes que a mí estás destinada
con dulzura implacable,
si cada día sube
una flor a tus labios a buscarme,
ay amor mío, ay mía,
en mí todo ese fuego se repite,
en mí nada se apaga ni se olvida,
mi amor se nutre de tu amor, amada,
y mientras vivas estará en tus brazos
sin salir de los míos.

-P. Neruda

Landlocked Blues

And the whole world must watch the sad comic display,
If you're still free start running away.


(Cause we're comin' for ya)

Brokenness & Obliteration

There's a difference. And it has
everything to do with clothes.

Shakespeare

Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:

Sword Swallower

Your name was on the blade that dug itself a passage into my gullet, crisp
and oh, so smooth that it tasted like blood with every ingestion. Push ever
more so harder darling, 'cause I'm wider than you think, like a favorite
ocean of yours: the Atlantic? Murderous, frigid, kidnapping water and waves.

We spent all night touching blades of pages, coloring in blues and yellows,
grays and salmonella orange. I held the light over your hand and saw your
nail polish, faded, tan, and asked if it'd be better that we shared the same bed.
Mine was a body of salamanders, and yours, blankets of flames. We sank either way.

And don't send me lyrics anymore, 'cause there's nothing anyone playing guitar
could ever sing that would change the way I closed my eyes, such tightness, it
took great strength, adamantine eyelids. Don't expect them to corrode in rain
or spring. They're like the dagger drawn down deep, internal and eternal and

internal and eternal and internal and eternal and internal and eternal and internal.
Honey, you are the bees, bullying other bees, buzzing wherever bees buzz these
days. And I've spent much too long plucking off bits of your wing beat, the beast
I am. Be surprised I haven't devoured your hive, your history, although we argue.

I threw rocks at your window pane with my unstable paws. No I never rubbed
against it. The wood barely bared my hunkering weight. I never rubbed the paint
off the wooded window pane. It must have corroded with the pattering rain. -but
would you notice anymore. -do your fingers peer the blinds first, for someone else?

The sky falls down and we are a part of it. We are at the scene of it. We are in the
sleep of it. Close your eyes and consummate lies, wetly disposed. Close your eyes
and consummate lies, secretly composed. Close your eyes and consummate lies,
photographically posed, like the blond, the blue, and all of your high pageantry.

I Know That There's a Point I've Missed

Come all you weary with your heavy loads, lay down your burdens find rest for your souls, because my yoke is easy and my burden is kind. I'll take yours upon me and you can take mine.

Come all you weary move through the earth, surrounded by rest stones and kicked out of church. A couple of loaves sit down at my feet. Lend me your ears and break bread with me.

Come all you weary.
Come gather round near me.
Find rest for your souls.

Come all you weary, crippled you lay. I'll help you along you can lay down your canes, we've got a long way to go but we'll travel as friends. The lights growing bright further on towards the end.

-Thrice

Mrs. Dalloway 11:45-12:00 P.M.

For the truth is ... that human beings have neither kindness, nor faith, nor charity beyond what serves to increase the pleasure of the moment. they hunt in packs. Their packs scour the desert and vanish screaming into the wilderness. they desert the fallen. They are plastered with grimaces.

-V. Woolf