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

Hubble and the heart

a void

avoided likened to

bivalves' secret

quickening pearls secretions

shut tight in a bubble galaxy of

creamy pixilated mollusk husk

mystifying Hubble captures

snap emergings dividing

decayings diverging

implodings opposing flash

force no mortal could muster

tucked and folded

bundled up neural networks beyond measure

highways to the moon and more wrapped

back in the corporeal cranial

double design in real time

a dash of Carlos Casteneda's

hey baby I can help you heal that

ephemeral hole

meshed

the mess of wholeness and the liberated vein

transcendence everlasting everliving love

ad infinitum and all that

here, here the concrete

slam your hand with a hammer and

damn

that hurts

notion not inescapable

give it some time, baby

give it some time

that light may reach you yet

things always spinning you never even mess your pretty little head about

the heart as a collection of cells

three weeks in the making begins to beat

spontaneously

with no provocation but the onset and onslaught of time

relentless fractionless time, baby

ever so subtle

the change in the neverending conquest of

light versus dark, the difference, the spectrum, the circle, baby

ya dig?

[CASH 2.09]

love,

c