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scatterThings we're swallowing, the names of the places we went and go. Things we ate to find out what we know: the shapes of lifetimes. In landmines lie the truth; the truth is a lion sleeping with a closed mouth in a dry place.scatter
The shapes of teeth and trees are still too similar, so, we conjure chaos calmly from capsules. Order then the colors in a night where plights are brighter. Things we're swallowing to fill the empty spaces in ourselves turn liquid, take the shapes of their containers. Are we these lifetimes?
We wonder normal things. Swallowing
by ~d8ff
invocationEvery page says he's through; fans lack and slack hands track the progress of years. hold me hereinvocation
Every pitch hurts every catcher drops the tune. Every single day I put my messiness away.
Empty planet blackened whole footprints: horizontal events eventually approach values. Suck and scatter, fuck and flatter just to hug and hammer it all out. Fall out of alignmment, unspeak harder to undress me. Precipitating
electricity and suggesting inefficiency, its effigy weakened by the progress of beers to bottoms. hold me back
by ~d8ff
spacemakingsusceptible silence,spacemaking
violence issuing worthwhile
orders, heart valves
and cell borders repent
oxygen. sloppily sorry
for sustenance, taking
it back for a glimpse
of the empty space
the modest disgrace of
your absence. since
sisterhood separates
freewill from friendship
anger and anchors and
foresight from style,
what of the gaps
between sentence and trial?
what if we try all
the sentences, phrases;
what if they run on
like mazes, or tapwater
making the slap
hotter, the last gash deeper.
what if we steepen
the hole to the middle,
whole melodies leaping
from coda to countdown.
turn your heart up
harder, wind it bac
by ~d8ff
rationalelonely seventeen grows leafless in a field of awkward primes while one hundred nineteen branches scratch the sky, for some whole factor. as we, dividing, searching for our own square roots, lose hope in rationality.rationale
base converstion is a haircut or the exponent, the potency of time. we never rolled over and repeated it: nothing matters really. the midnights multiply dark even in subtraction's mourning. we never sold our show to entropy but hours. though nothing cradles you the way that sixteen fondles two, great grand daughter.
by ~d8ff
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- Current Residence: katmandu
- Interests: aliens, drugs, friendships, numbers, words
- Favourite artist: space worm
- Favourite cartoon character: all the mighty mice
- Tools of the Trade: letters, lenses, keys, colors, awkward situations
- Website: http://yikha.pemdasi.net
- Email: d8ff752@gmail.com
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- Yahoo: d8ff752
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