low

bedtime lullaby to sadness, to let myself sleep forget full of faces I can’t see you without my glasses no, I can’t see clearly… where are you in this misty chaos, of our past and the present and my future?   I am divest of you I am divest of all I just might fall…

can you climax?

I’ve been wondering why I don’t reach climax in dreaming. Another way to word it is failing to come to the end, the conclusion of sorts; I feel like it’s a common experience… You try to sprint, but you can only jog – sluggishly. {Surely by now you should have been caught by the knife-wielding…

family & I

a song and an ode never want to go to sleep never want to close my eyes never want to wake and see I’ve got no feeling in my thighs / hope i’ll see you one day i’ll be by your side we’ll look out at the ocean we’ll hear the seagulls cry / i’ll…

Cramped heart

“Won’t sleep ’til I’ve felt as bad as I can” Cramped heart in bed with love no peace thinking of who you might love. small details now great, the girls of yore – I insinuate “are you OK?” a final ‘nite’. no answer there pain stings, in bites not my game this tempest, love it’s…

Together Alone

“on the anonymous online community and chatroulette” Walked alone today to bridge the gap between past and present; My fate must relax. Wandered away for fear that I’d be followed by paranoid, incessant ringing: that final feeling, of family: Death’s most personal tie. So I’ll put on my suit and a smile, to boot to…

“Portishead” Plays Vancouver

– PNE Forum, Vancouver Monday, October 4, 2011 It is dissonance at its most refined: Bending pitches like no one’s business. Rhythms that weave together like an auricular kaleidoscope. Nobody Loves Me is a bit fast. Hunched-over-back, she’s got tight dark jeans – just like every other concert with footage I’ve seen of Beth Gibbons,…

Can’t Remember

Can’t remember- the pot contaminates the focus of the brain   I can’t remember I live alone and I slumber, awake. Phew, out goes the smoke…   Edges of the lines blur, and my mobile keeps on ringing. I recline, Funkadelic, on my drifting carpet.   I was crying, and why? wouldn’t you do the…