webnography

Too flat to be flung, too far to be feared,
(your eyes a palette of song and wind)
once again we push off before the end.
Can anyone calm a restless rage?

My love rests in warm places, but
the cold creeps up my sleeves.
Oh, I’ll do anything at all…

Where and when we sing again I’ll be standing here bemused.
Why we watch the sky and stars and wait to be moved you know it’s
hard to be down when you’re so confused.
Go grain of thought by way of wind,
down the drain and out the end.
(Rattle Brains you’re absent-minded,
and pulling me apart.)

(we’ll watch the whole place fall in love.)

Oh, I’ll do anything at all.

and i woke up and i woke up and i woke up-

strong winds stroke my sails.
he was wearing a white tutu, and giggling-
artifacts of his adventures strewn across the space,
in straw,
amongst white branches, small trees.

and i wonder, in the face of constant consumption,
how to go about production.
i lost my socks today.
spoke excitedly, was slowly silenced
in curious contemplation.

caffeine trembles and cigarette breath,
these are the days.
these are the days.

and i woke up and i, and,
hung a right at the far star,
came crashing at the rings of some unknown force.
this is inconsequence : this is apathy.

(do you remember waking up and looking forward to the day?)
((((again the fear strikes dissonant chords,
the sound these days is always evil, emotionless, passionless-
it makes me want to scream, or sing))))

fuck these beeps and blips.
fuck these soulless words i read each day.
fuck predictability.
fuck your reality.
(it’s boring)
etcetera.

the rage is all the rage
so be it.