Friday, August 21, 2009

dazed in ruins, the interlocking grid
you've given us all the longing we can mend
to bark-babies, canine sheaths, torn wakes
in knotted bibs, wings in trenches, oil blood
blade babes, sand in iced glass, rattle rattle
the chill climbs twin spiders spread
greased windows, healthy prints

Monday, August 03, 2009

Sunday, August 02, 2009

went to the beach today at 2 pm when the sun was high but there was still a lambswool mist of the marine layer along the sand and rocks. there was a good deal of tar on the beach and afterwards my friend and I dragged our sneakers across the grass and asphalt and just now I went to the car and noticed the smell of oil still in the air.

the summer is my favorite because the days are long and I tend to have fewer obligations. I have been estivating. It is sort of a dreamless estivation -- either very deep or very shallow -- no long strides in between. I have fewer words. the line makes shapes of non-words.

I am grateful for your work.
is this real?