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a hotel in Manhattan [15 Jan 2014|04:28pm]
I'm at a hotel in Manhattan having a "drink" in the middle of the day. It's white and slick outside and I'm staying my ass inside and watching daytime tv and reality shows because it's my mini 24-48 hour vacation and I'm gonna do what I want.

Showtime the illegal way, warm baths, wine (apparently) and the curtains closed so I forget about leaving. I become a different person when I'm away from home. I become. . . even more chill.
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In last night's dream [13 Feb 2013|12:20am]
[ mood | devious ]

In last night's dream, I played with a pretty lady in a tub of warm water. It's the best dream I've had in a while. I have no idea who she was. But I miss her.

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before it goes out [08 Dec 2012|05:59am]
I waste another conversation. And then the years.
There is something old about Fridays. I get stuck in thoughts that I failed my family, failed the manuscript, failed this brief light on Earth--certain friends that I love more than they will ever know. I want to escape into Monday, begin again, and maybe get a few moments of my life right.

Before it goes out.
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reaching through the curtains to shake a skinny fist at the neighbor kids [17 Mar 2012|05:54pm]
I rescue yellowed paperbacks from the trunk of a car abandoned in Queens. I return downtown later in the morning and watch an Asian woman sitting alone across the street, sunlight shining on her black nylons. I take a room in a ruined hotel with dark green walls. It smells like old rain. I begin thumbing through the first paperback, a southern gothic novel written by a name that tastes like dust when I pronounce it. These stories always include an old woman living alone in a big house, reaching through the curtains to shake a skinny fist at the neighbor kids venturing too close to her yard of tall weeds.
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And then the heat. [08 Oct 2011|12:37am]
I suck on poisonous clouds way up in a pink sky. After the Earth has died. I surrender my headache to bells and ashes. I wish I could photograph my memories of you. You lifting up your dress in front of me. The taste of you. My mouth pressed against your neck. The coolness of your thigh. And then the heat.
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[12 Sep 2011|04:36pm]
i write this for you, girly figure cutting across my field of vision, smoking cigarettes with your secret or not so secret book laying between us.   everything that is between you and i has already been written. it is apparent in the face of Mars like a mountain chain, and i'm half drunk, half on you and half on beer, and nothing, nothing will stand between us. you see i learned how to fence, and so i learned how to dodge, and weave, and make myself a presence in small spaces. i have filled a niche, i have moved on tips of toes and beaten foils.   i know my speed and the limits of my grace but i strive to be ever faster, behind my shade of lidded eyes and what you call detachment (i call it silence)(serenity came at a price, i gave up my voice) i know all about swords, blades, sharp edges and i have divested myself of them.    i learned instead how to cut with words  trim away  make myself lean   able to fit through the tightest of parrys.    so i feint and double tap, and attack your aura with my silent and quick saber and i cut a place out for myself in your eyes, because i have waited silently behind a mask for the chance to breathe, FULLY AND DEEPLY OF SOMETHING THAT IS AT ONCE MYSELF AND NOT MYSELF And now i am drunk on this cheap beer that you have bought me and i i i'lllllll screaaaaaam aaaall day   in my dreams i've fought battalions with nothing more than a bamboo shoot and my wits, ive danced through one hundred and fifty thousand different oppositions, i have been waiting and shoring up strategies to fight a war, between one half of me and the other, and in the space that is made out of defeat, out of the end of bricks and mortar and steel, i will make a place for you, comfortable and right.   we will catalyze a new paradigm, like amino acids recombining and forming something not unlike a beating heart.  i don't care who laughs at me or what these silly people do that surround me, you and i together are like nuclear warfare but with warm breath and sweat.
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broadcast (for Jenny Longitude) [12 Sep 2011|02:15am]
I would hold your hand in the fog. If you let me. I'll take mystery over clarity, any day. But I'll lead you to the thinning edges--if you wish. Or closer to the center--where horns sound in all directions and no direction. Hide with me in the lighthouse. And listen to the day come down. Sit close together and listen to the moon's emergency broadcast.
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Writer's Block: 9/11 [12 Sep 2011|01:43am]
english class sitting in back of bianca jerez
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wintergreen [04 Sep 2011|02:54pm]
If you need me, I'll be out here. Drinking wine between the trees at dusk. All the best radio programs begin broadcasting after dark. I'll be out here. Way out here. In low hum and low light. I'll drink enough to sleep past everything. And dream of my hands on your skin, my face in your hair.
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[13 Jul 2011|09:13pm]
I can't escape the rain and the carwrecks. You can't die this early in the day. Who is going to make my lunch? Who is going to turn on the tv and find the right cartoons? Who is going to keep the sea at bay?
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[12 Jul 2011|01:38am]
I don't know why I wrote all of these. A series of unremarkable entries after a period of unremarkable silence. I have no right to feel as drained as I feel. But I'm glad it's done. I wish I was done. So I will try to sleep a little. I hope it's a peaceful, dreamless sleep. I hope I'm not here.
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[21 Oct 2009|01:03am]
there are skylines inside of you

i saw them
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we're gonna do it real big [07 Oct 2009|12:12am]
bigger than you've ever done it.
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& fall asleep [11 Aug 2009|01:55pm]
broken old memories when i tell you, are you put off by the fact that they still linger

or is it that they happened

and you cant do a thing about it

you want to buy a farm and have everyone that you know who has been really fucked by the world
live there
so when we win the lottery thats the first thing were going to do, and even though some people laugh at waiting to hit it big while others play twice a day five tickets midday and five tickets evening

i still think its beautiful to have this dream that you have

even though we never play any numbers and we never check which ones have come out
and we dont let every day hinge on what will happen tomorrow

some days i do
& i get sad

and then you'll tear when im not around and i'll curl up in your mind
& fall asleep kissing you
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3 breaths [10 Aug 2009|02:10am]
You have three breaths left in you. Use them wisely. But first, kiss me.
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[01 Aug 2009|12:08am]
And how good it will feel
to kill the memory of nights spent holding your shirt for the smell.
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every word [22 Jul 2009|02:59pm]
i'm holding onto every word. keeping them together cause they sound



i belong to someone already gone.

vibes 09'

i should start keeping a journal like a normal person.
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all the time [20 Jul 2009|12:56am]
there is always too much all the time
too much
but i manage to look like i'm only ever sitting still staring at the carpet
while i am shifting constantly trying to lessen the pain and understand all the beauty and tragedy i can feel in each moment

but there is too much all the time
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!!! [20 Jul 2009|12:52am]
a powdered handprint spooks the hunter green hamper.

but honey, your ghost will just have to haunt harder to make me feel even the slightest white rise
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[02 Jul 2009|10:33pm]
& that guys a doctor
hes like the biggest e & g head
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