cd release partaay

In between the s-oar-ee's and ab-oh-t's she dropped a name and Bentham came to mind before what I thought would be first to come to mind.  Either too much television or time really does heal.  And by heal I mean nurture callousness.  I will take callousness over pine trees, though. Supine in the pines like Robert Jordan.  But we all know where that got him.  I had a craving for the folksy pop of swift kicks to the shins so indulgence takes the front seat to the molding of image.  I should have these cravings more.  Crave to crave these cravings.  You know what, though, I really like his shoes.  So pink tiger gingery with a rainbow on top.  I would wear those shoes.  And in realtime backwards flashes, it's getting dark but I have no phone and didn't I pass this bridge twice already?  How that worked itself out I still don't know, but I'm sure glad it did. I'm sure glad pawpaw.   

there's literally no way

Instant gratification is a strange, untamable baby kitten.  Just remember the four E's.  Apples, bananas, coconuts, dalmatians.  I'm sorry that your poochy belly makes me hand you the blue marker and I'm sorry that I use nylon to to do my dirty work.  It's just that you smile too much.  And it's just that you should know, know that your wide-eyed, loud-mouthed, high-pitched exaltations, know that they're too wide, too loud, too high.  I am a chinchilla!

it's all relative

It's the little things that'll get you by.  Or me by.  Bye!  The haunted house, walking over from the door juuust as you're about to leave box-laden, stereo headphones, an eightyoutofahundred.  But what's next?  Ohhh, yes, the treasure hunt!  And the extra two hours tomorrow morning means I can catch up on my confusion.  These things can bridge the gap, but is it sustainable?  Are you sustainable?  I want to go with my gut on this one but doubling back is easy when you're being too generous.  What more is there to say?

it's so BIG!

Who holds a piece of chalk like a pencil?  I sup-pooose I pooose no objections as long as he doesn't make it squeak.  It just looks kinda like typing with a pair of index fingers, in an endearing sort of way. The stammering detracts from its charm--but he sounds just like you!  But the chalk-- and then it slips!-- what was it, the opposite of carpe diem?  Fleetingly destined or destined to be fleeting?  Change is good, change is good, but what if change is bad?  Fleeting, I KNOW!-- so I want to catch it before its back alleys and car horns and plastic slippers and sagging wife-beaters are devoured by the already stifling smog.  

Oh yes, that was it--

memento mori.

sing dis song in rhyme

Sheer enormity is hard to remember--it's hard to even know in the first place. We're more connected than ever                             and more detached since never. World three may as well be ninety-ninth from over here in this bubble, from over there in that bubble, bubble bubble bubblebubblebubblbbbbbPOP

It's surprisingly satisfying to intrude. Mere seconds in passing but you hear that he's in Philly now helping out for Valentine's weekend. And it's true! He's no liar. It's good that you were there to check up on him. He is here, this is Philly, and it is almost Valentine's Day.

can you blame her?

Some associations never die. Epiphany arrived incarnate as skinny love on a Beijing overnighter, summer of eighteen. Chain-linked cabins are, empirically, irresistible. Couldn't forget that physics lesson by the speakers even if I tried. And trust me, I've tried. First auditory impressions are forever. At the antipode, the broken, airy whistling of a one Spenking beckons symphonic chirping, cold-empty mahogany and green tea candy. Winding windows down on a smoother path merely weeks later, it's a different whistling--more pitchy and piercing. It's a nervous tic motion of the head to the left. This one will be forever Rubik's cubes and scaling swings in black polka dot dresses on the eve of realization--the pivot point between naivety and never-quite-there. There, near, waaaay back--ALWAYS--and yes, even here.

jus lemme be

We are rather incompetent for how much we flaunt our stock. No prowess, no speed or agility. Blinking lights don't cut it anymore; even change settles into an accustomed pattern. No attention span. Sirens weren't meant to be a nuisance, but when things become the norm they're maddening. And not in the intended way, for wailing alarms. No rose-smelling. It's all because we'd rather not be bothered when we have things to do, ladders to climb. Once you get to the top you see EVERYTHING. Infinitesimally small. But relative to the cosmos, you're still only grounded in the mountain's peak. Nothing is crystal clear from way up there but the dirt and worms at your feet anyway. It's funny. The view is probably better halfway-noway up anyhow. Don't ignore the annoying sirens.

ohhhhh all i can do is

Some things remain underestimated until their value is put directly to the test. Who would have thought--that the olfactory sense brings to bear the most powerful nostalgia trips; all it takes is cigarette smoke on pebbled-stairs. Blaring horns and jackhammers, the sight of bamboo building frames and smog-- so much smog. Two-dimensions can't do the experiences any justice; flat stillness holds no sentimentality. Only whiffs of deep-fried dough sticks, rancid garbage, jasmine flowers, exhaust, musty closets, boiling water, gas stoves, and the hot, midday stagnant pond of lilies can do the trick. Your first response is to shut your eyes and inhale, deeeeeply.