Amazing that the presence of one person can make me so ecstatic & calm at the same time ( Read more... )

I leave New York to breathe. I put away my cut-throat incisors, take slow walks through slow nights, & talk to people who have a gentle wind about their words ( Read more... )

I pack you on my back, again. You are more than ritual, integrated. I find a forgotten $70 tucked into my passport, a way i agreed to take care of myself in the past, allotting permission for the future.

I peel the tag off a new pair of sneakers. I look at a map & my mouth forms new words, the pleasures of foundings.

Cut myself on a broken jar of Waldhonig. Bloody honey fingers ( Read more... )

It's like shooting myself in the foot.

I've had this resting behind my teeth all day:

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& instead of saying what might make me feel better, i hit pavement & go until my skin reddens from the sun, puckers from the ocean, & bruises from the Cyclone.

Every set of friends has a place which signifies their youth & mischief. For some of us it was Flagstaff, for some, Oakland's many playgrounds, but for a lot of us, it was my basement room, rampant with junkfood, fire, glow-in-the-dark stuff, and a lack of parental advisement. For "That 70's Show" it's Foreman's basement, but my room is far ( Read more... )