A poem birthed in subway steam. |
There are certain times (like these ticsstuck between digits on an analogue face) where I want to keep my eyes open and stay awake the whole night through. Just like the way I did as a teenager, ignor...
Posted by Scott on Fri, 03 Oct 2008 07:39:00 PST |
Hope for something different. |
I saw an old man sitting a table away from me at lunch time. He was slowly and quietly eating a chicken sandwich and sitting across the table from his wife, she was wearing a pink bandanna. The couple...
Posted by Scott on Wed, 01 Oct 2008 02:00:00 PST |
Burst. |
I know that thought you're keeping locked up, the one you're holding on to for dear life. The thought you wear to keep yourself from feeling a particularly heavy shade of alone. It's the idea you spor...
Posted by Scott on Thu, 14 Aug 2008 08:17:00 PST |
The most valuable thing we have. |
Love like a busted pipe organ. That is what you extend into my view. A gold, scratched pocket watch as yellow and bright as the sun beaming down at 2am. You shiver and breath crooked, my very own bent...
Posted by Scott on Sun, 28 Sep 2008 07:10:00 PST |
Dwell. |
Inverted I swim, deeper and farther away.The ocean whispers in a symphonic voice,and I feel I have found a quiet home here.I taste the cold salt water on my lips andfeel the frigid rush blanket my sc...
Posted by Scott on Wed, 24 Sep 2008 07:45:00 PST |
Polygraphing a placebo. |
I listened to myself whisper back a question that was far from being previously unasked. Still I waited and wanted, regardless. I cut paper moons from newsprint and wrote my name on them like a valen...
Posted by Scott on Thu, 11 Sep 2008 12:49:00 PST |
Words. (To whom it may unconcern.) |
One by one I walked slowly down every street in the city alone, with my headphones on. While I hummed along to the music I systematically smashed out seventy percent of the street lights with an alumi...
Posted by Scott on Mon, 08 Sep 2008 06:37:00 PST |
Feign. |
I guess it's expected to be how ever whenever.Feed your friends and lovers a regurgitated post script,you lie until even you believe you're a colt 45 pimpwith your finger on the neck-vein and your mis...
Posted by Scott on Sun, 24 Aug 2008 06:59:00 PST |
Leave the wine-glass out and drink a toast to never. |
There's this girl who lives on the other side of town.I hear that once upon a time she had a thing for me,nothing serious, probably just a passing thingsomething brief and barely explainable.When I se...
Posted by Scott on Fri, 22 Aug 2008 06:50:00 PST |
Regularly scheduled programming. |
If there's one thing I've got it's the ability to sound sincere. Flash an honest look across my face.And then, without pause,the camera man will zoom in for a tighter shot. I just watched the last fif...
Posted by Scott on Mon, 11 Aug 2008 07:57:00 PST |
