March 2011
17 posts
@greyhaime
You wrote “that is really cool looking, are those gears and structure like things make her up?”
It is. The gears are from old pencil sharpener drawings in patent applications and the rest is pieces from victorian anatomy and fashion drawings. I have a little series of sketches made from pieces of diagrams. I will try to post more.
replacing the barbed wire
Violent devices are the bodies we inhabit.
Life passes through us.
It has no time for prolonged visits.
There are symptoms which are present,
in this dust.
Work, blood, pain and sweat
are the evidence
in the eternal argument
that claims we are alive.
A simple man directed the build.
We followed a section of eternity,
a line of slight angles,
to mend a fence that defined a cathedral of land.
*This is not a new writing. This is a new edit, but I wrote this while working a cattle ranch in Montana in 07 or 06 during a terrible heatwave.
this sky
I’ll sail along this sky.
on a ship of promises
or as some would say,
to swear,
cross your heart,
and hope to die.
I’ll be here, sailing,
or drifting in a very particular way,
believing your promise.
Not drifting, you’ll say,
Sailing.
I’ll see you smile.
and
I’ll sail along this sky.
What it's like for birds
A field’s most difficult edge is its very center. The mind prefers outer edges. We look for refuge in a side and the mind tends to drift you to one. Staying in the center requires more activity, like controlling a dream. Maybe that’s what it’s like for birds to cling to branches, always being pulled away into the refuge of the air. You can only manage to cling to the center as long as you’re not aware of it. Tell a bird how marvelous it is how she clings to the branches and she’ll surely be pulled into the sky. Once you’re aware of what you’re doing, you’re veering into the side. You can no longer hold the center. The composition collapses. All the birds scatter, all at once.
We Were Firecrackers
After we rose screaming and before we became a shower of stars
a sudden silence and the body floats slow; but the soul’s velocity
still wants to go and go.
Cover your ears.
We’ll puncture the air next to drill a hole in it, straight to shake the ground.
A faint crackle burning in distant thunder across the towns below
who couldn’t care less
as we fade among the sound
of a new row.
