Dear Mom, your other daughter is moving to Spain.

apparently.
apparently.
she needs an ocean of
breathing room.

heh. heh. ocean/breathing? but how? a quartered ocean? delineated water?
drawing lines of waves
charting
freedom
(and knowledge of...
fuck. the edge of the world? what are we looking at anyway?
the open waters like a scene from a movie.
i don't know what happens out there.
tales of dragons snagging ships in clenching, reptilian loops,
easier to grasp at than today’s science-ized creatures of the deep,
hanging phosphorescent lanterns to lure a passing catch of the day,
how are they related to me?
G-O-D in mitochondrial entities,
the same ones inhabit you and me
slough off in skin cells regularly,
so that in just a few short years we are made up of entirely different stuff.
holy?
how can we hold on?
)

love
c

Stir (like) Crazy/Stick in the Mud

mind alive with language,
myriad fumbling tongues
slavering, sloshing, frothing out
thoughts
slipping on word formation of
electromagnetic impulse,
dense clouds gather fast
try to scream lightning and leap
before it catches the tree,
we must seem to all-seeing eyes
immobile of mouth and foot
unable to get away
with what we want to get across
mind
like time
flies