Press yer pilgrims to my stomach |
Two. A matchstick man for me and for you. It's true like the dust on the dawn called the dew. Purple like a raindop reflects the early-morning blue.
He took seventy baths and still couldn't come clean...
Posted by Naaman Subverting on Sun, 24 Feb 2008 10:33:00 PST |
"Ain’t nothin’ in Cheyenne." |
Ain't nothin' in New York. Ain't yer teeth. Ain't yer heart. Ain't nothin' in New York. Ain't yer blood. Ain't yer heart. Ain't yer bones. Ain't yer nose. Ain't yer skin and yer teeth and yer he...
Posted by Naaman Subverting on Sun, 24 Feb 2008 09:35:00 PST |
Kachtipulte |
Vienna. 1916. The memory of the boy and his dream. A craft that lampoons the cosmos and a moon orbiting his heart are the reasons for his return to her. A little weird. A little weary, and a triffle b...
Posted by Naaman Subverting on Thu, 07 Feb 2008 08:58:00 PST |
Killing Fritz Lang |
The movement of yer upper arms across the small of my back panicked me so much I had to hurry up my dreams. The fever-state in which we exist is a placid and sometimes falcid emptiness also filled. I'...
Posted by Naaman Subverting on Thu, 07 Feb 2008 04:06:00 PST |
Improvised Faith |
Comment on my healing...She was just the same as all the other girls...She was just the same despite the number of years she's been the same. She was just the same as I remembered her. She was j...
Posted by Naaman Subverting on Tue, 29 Jan 2008 04:53:00 PST |
Operatic Love Songs |
I hung my planets round your neck last night. Oh, such perfect gems...always such a perfect gem. And though the photographs' near perfect light lit up the night, you were still a perfect gem. Uh, A pe...
Posted by Naaman Subverting on Sat, 26 Jan 2008 09:34:00 PST |
Carbonated Healing Zones |
If time could catch me, she would have to look far off. She's so far off, you know, you know. If you could enrapture me, you wouldn't have to blow yer top, you know, you know, you know. And I'm a spin...
Posted by Naaman Subverting on Wed, 16 Jan 2008 02:06:00 PST |
The Calorie Content of My Tongue |
My April-flavoured mouth is always so stuffed with marbles and sweets, I swear it's easy for me to see how you'd mistake it for a playground. It didn't matter what was stollen away in its soil or...
Posted by Naaman Subverting on Wed, 09 Jan 2008 01:17:00 PST |
Shruggy, the Moths’ Good Friend |
He peeled open the parts of his eyes that weren't on the outside and saw the world as it was. "'Just can't seem to grasp it, HONEY." So I watched him sew them back up. He explained the world had looke...
Posted by Naaman Subverting on Tue, 08 Jan 2008 06:42:00 PST |
Retaliate, My Ocean |
Had me a Southern germ, not quite what I'd forgotten. All I knew I had to learn, but the prayers to say, I'd forgotten. And deep inside my open wound are millions of microcosims, and deep inside each ...
Posted by Naaman Subverting on Thu, 03 Jan 2008 09:40:00 PST |
