PIT-STOPS AT PURGATORY.

turn the earth into a hot house.

2009-02-10T02:18:00.000+05:30

shot you with stars until you were pockmarked and cratered. where's your guilt spilt measure in this call and response of vis divina secularity?

you're still running the lotto rotogravure sluice of life. you're still drafting the words for your world revival dust-up.

show us a little heart, dancetté wolverine, show us how to chevvy your tinder.

the adventures of a girl named lackadaisy and a boy who is god incarnate.

2009-02-04T16:02:00.005+05:30

selling out goodnights for a dollar apiece and living my life in batches of friday afternoons. all this despair over a renaissance affair has left me as whitewashed and unseen as a ghost. shock rock and your hallowed laurels will do nothing to douse this nation's fever. you boast thirty-one flavors of ice-cream and i lay claim to gems like wycherly's wife.

i'm mellowing out like fine, rotting mead; golden and acidic and absolutely distasteful.

(precisely; i know you remain indecisive under stars i know you cannot sidestep sundays or proximity shots i know you slick your lips before you speak i know you down to the bone marrow and i've mastered every form of chinese torture unspoken and unheard of that will extract from you those words laced with lithium.)

first quarto.

2009-01-28T21:50:00.006+05:30

bred in anthills, buried on shores. there was never a middle ground for our grand picnics. she's the shroud of turin stigmata against the eigenlicht behind my sleepless eyelids. the weather is persistently seeping into my skin and i'm a coagulating mess of the person i once was. around you i could stomp on eggshells and around you i could have dead worlds revolve. fell in love with the canadian gothic farmhouse fallacy. the tip of my tongue is my biggest traitor. there is no tailor talented enough to sew me the visage i want to wear. there is no house large enough to rival the domestic vacancy in my bones. what repels you; i eagerly await it. what enthralls you; i am actively seeking to destroy it. it saddens me that we are all sacks of bones and sinew and absurdly innocent egos and dove-like, frail and frigid prides.

this vastness will be my one and only.

with air like fiberglass and your system like a swarm.

2009-01-06T00:50:00.007+05:30

run like the wind with the world rushing away beneath our feet, feeling the onslaught of soft summery air against our faces. run, like we used to when we were young with pinwheels in our hands and with the sunset on the horizon, racing each other home without a care in the world. run without a pause for breath or a hesitation of momentum, run like we did when we were sweet and young and made of quicksilver because right now, there are bounding wolves snapping at our heels.

stay smart, stay sharp, stay lethal. and don't let your shadows stray in this triboluminescent storm.

cuttlefish carapace.

2008-12-27T23:36:00.007+05:30

spent an hour shooting up liquid islands of nitro-glyceric positivity and a short temporal space building my dreams around the sorry structures of your cherrystone clavicle. and then you shrugged them off with a click of your castanet bones and some day our chernobyl fatality will send reflexive demifires scattering white hot through little boys' veins.

and maybe one of the infected will shout with laughable conviction
'i don't care if the world ends since i won't be the one to blame
and the denouement is disappointment splattered all over the page'
and pull the plug and drain the universe into antichromatic odd matter. and maybe the spiral catharsis will reset this event timeline into motion with him at the very epicenter of all this radiating improbability.

he could breathe, "let there be sound,"

and maybe nip all of this in the bud.

ocean drill.

2008-11-20T22:56:00.002+05:30

i'm all strapped and smart with a nickel in my eye and splintered facets in my tie. as per all the signs and symptoms meticulously read from the entrails of our cephalopod star system, your rebound rendezvous is at your door.

are we bound northwards and higher?

still wrapped up in a world with not enough air.

2008-11-06T18:04:00.002+05:30

you are are the object of my envy for your prey wanders in the darkened city. when it lays down its guard in an unknown alley, you may seize it by the cuff of its neck and tear it from limb to limb and our hearts asunder.

my prey wanders, but only in my mind, somewhere in my rainbow schools of thought. from the rooftop landing of any corporate skyscraper, i can connect all the cars on the roads like dots on a flowchart. but would they lead me to where you are?

a boy named caroline.

2008-10-17T07:40:00.000+05:30

i've been picking at fate through wind spotted curtains that only standing a thousand feet above the ground can deliver.

i want to return to my nine-to-live of fueling the propellers for the sin of movement.

coalescence.

2008-09-23T01:05:00.000+05:30

are you on fire?

are you trailing crimson ash and sulfur
with every step you take

into the wide, wild world?

we all know a life this large can be severely intimidating
without the comfort of a sparkling champagne pledge.

perhaps i shall see you when i appear
in every single one of the myriad gin joints in the world
(with a swish by the flair of magic or science.)

momentously, i shall seize you by your blue collar and take you home.

thermology.

2008-09-17T22:22:00.002+05:30

i've been time-bound and confined to the momentary quasi fires of domesticated sunstorms.

a little early, a little late.

jeopardy.

2008-08-01T21:26:00.003+05:30

so if some day time turned into treacle
how many jars do you think your past would fill?
secobarbital is your escape and
sildenafil citrate is for a reason,
called the blue pill.

what would science do if one day
the sky opened up to reveal an eye?
peering down with scrutiny and curiosity,
with shock and wonder and perhaps even fright;
oh yes, what would people do if the
ever-seeing eye in the sky was looking
down on us with undeniable fear
of what it has created?

what if the tragedy of babel was overcome
and one language dominated the universe
the earth, the galaxy, the cosmos beyond.
how could i ever learn to say:
'i love you for staying in perpetual motion' in
thirty languages before my death? how could
i ever learn to say: 'i'm sorry for all the
pain and trauma and shock and stress
i put myself through' at least in three?

what if the oceans dried up to reveal thousands
upon thousands of golden starfish?

hubris.

2008-07-17T12:55:00.000+05:30

perhaps i'm now familiar with the turns of your pale
mourning dove wrists and fingers tipping on china glass.
perhaps i'm used to the cold metal clinking in the sunrise chill,
keeping time on late nights sinking into liquid amber mornings.

perhaps i'm familiar with our lex talionis settlement
and trained to retort over grim triggers and dilemma.
and trained to gauge the incandescent heat through
your flustered hair and your fresh, formless clothes.
with both our sides deadlocked with hephaistos's chains
as a sorry testament to our guilt and shame.

"your deus ex machina is a sorry excuse";
spoken in a coiled snake's whisper. ineffable, irreverent.
i feel your death crawling through my veins,
through the tendons at my clenched fists
and it stops one swerve short of your next heartbeat.

sometimes, you confess you are lenore, eulalie,
ulalum, annabel lee, morella, and eleonora.
or all that which they have in common; to me,
you are iustitia's renaissance humiliation.

perhaps i'll be fed to your furies, perhaps
i have come to grant you the status
of my nyx borne nemesis.

between our words laid bare like an open book, only written in braille,
are a thousand worlds lost in context that a. conan doyle would have envied.

schema.

2008-07-16T01:55:00.000+05:30

my two-cent blueprints would be million dollar game plans, but only in some other dynamic station.

wild cards for wet dreams.

2008-06-26T22:52:00.000+05:30

sublime
unlocked
scotch pine
swiss knife
tea leaf
lisps
harmoniphon
vagabondage
catatonia
dinnerware
porcelain
contortionist
blackberry
rainfall
electrodynamics
arrowhead
warzone
low-calorie
desolate.

erotomania.

2008-06-25T21:07:00.002+05:30

i remember thinking it was a sign
that our machinations were so aligned.

medications, patience, you chose those clothes
on a corpus christi thursday. what would you wear with those?

love song.

2008-06-08T14:22:00.002+05:30

come one sunrise, i shall sink my talons into your cold, morning skin, and shred to pieces the throbbing, slippery strands you're woven of, even if i may have to rip the hull of naglfar to forge myself the claws.

i'll cradle your severed head within my victorious arms like you were a child again, and whisper in your temple stories about the gods only you were meant to hear.

and then i will eat your ears. but i will not put out your eyes, so that at night you, like the uncountable stars in the skies that i have conquered, may hold vigil over my sleep of the kings.

euthalia.

2008-06-08T03:00:00.002+05:30

the last piece of the puzzle is the prize.

(and just to spite your settlement, a gypsy moth flutters its wings to the south of atlantis.)

much of a muchness.

2008-05-28T04:00:00.000+05:30

i'm all caught up in the idea of being composed entirely of strings.

outside of our attention spans, there's an infinitesimal, curled-up world licking up our spines.

(closer to you than your clothes or your warmth or mine for that matter)

but you don't have to think about it, and we can carry on resonating as sweetly as ever.

staccato.

2008-05-14T03:00:00.001+05:30

(i do not regret how)

i broke the dawn and blamed you for it.

(now, answer wisely, given the current circumstances;)

what are you going to do about it?

sync.

2008-05-12T00:11:00.000+05:30

she's a little less afraid to open up, but she's nothing more than a case-closed hypothesis.

i'm going to go with her for a nice long walk down the urban precipice, and maybe my theta waves will be the perfect rhymes to silver and orange.

god forbid these pitch dark skies.

ultraviolets.

2008-05-11T14:08:00.002+05:30

does this button brighten up the sun?

been pulling at stings and sympathy stains.
i'm made out of cotton and wishing for rain.

haven't been myself in quite a while, but i feel good knowing you've never even suffered the chance.

test drive my cadillac backseat limerence.

prisoners of fear; death row duty call.

2008-03-03T15:05:00.002+05:30

i've been playing way too many videogames.

unrelated: at some point, we all have to defenestrate our dreams, because we're growing up to become gossamer ghosts. still, i can't escape this sunshine rising through my blood and flooding my insides. maybe the onslaught of negativity still lingers in lines under my eyes and on the corners of my lips but that's pretty hard to dwell on with a world of new questions, but all of that is of course, quietened under my fingertips.

quid pro quo, we're expected.

the social history of neverland.

2008-02-29T22:43:00.000+05:30

i'm giving away trash as fond and favorite presents. too bad none of it is treasure except for the packing it all came in.

i know you get the point, but i'm just sharpening it a little. i always catch my fingers in the process. i still have nowhere to go but i can't stand the journey. i don't want the world to be mine, just a few latitudes and longitudes and everything in-between that i can hold close and keep safe.

i love you but the bottom line is that we're all selfish.

as if by magic.

2008-02-18T23:30:00.005+05:30

everything tied up with strings in my hands.
bring it on quicker; this is an ephemeral stance.

it's easy waving wands and to honey on the words. conjure up a miracle, a flock of sunlit birds.

but to expect a real cure would be quite absurd.

i'm one-fourth farfetching idealism and three-fourths of lowdown overdramatics. see you on the slipslide ride.

vice-reversa.

2008-01-09T17:51:00.000+05:30

you're all alone and hiding behind the second person.

la fandango.

2007-12-20T08:04:00.001+05:30

same old spin on a whole new thing
half a dry vermouth and half a highway fling
don't stop to smell the nitrate, we're vermin on the loose
sprawling scattered shattered cars
and waning winter blues.

same old wrap on a whole new trap
venetian shoulder blades that shun the shoulder strap
with vapor trails that last till your very next breath
we're revving up for dead end drives and
blowing limpid meth.

don't stand up and face it when you can't outrace it
transgression, motherfucker, can you fucking taste it?
my finger's on the clue and the houdini flew
we're stalling for the suspense
and we'll do you in, too.

stop breathe rinse repeat
frolic street, galvanic beat
ringside seat, are you the prized elite?
are you shining shoes for the indiscreet?

when the gutters all die and char the skies
you can read us words from the choking wise
whackshow parish with the god of wounds
if we're brought to our knees
while your heavens rise.

and if you must insist upon the iron fist
of the vengeance of a god we've so dearly missed
we'll submit and stop under the drop of the knife
trashing token locker rules
from our former shocker lives.

we'll take it in stride and honor your pride
we'll speak when spoken to and we'll run and hide
we'll suffer sharp crimson shame and hurt at your hands
we'll pay penance for our ways
as your reverence demands.

and when all's said and done and you've rusted our guns
we shall live and speak and thrive as one
with our distilled souls and lustrated hearts
you will etch our ends and we'll play our parts

and maybe you'll forget in the thrall of your art
that we still possess the means
to rend this apart.

multi-million enterprise.

2007-11-21T17:20:00.000+05:30

these new friends like trends are psychedelicious.
still leading gregarious lives vicariously.

yours truly,
forever haunted by the spirit of the stairway.

homewreckers versus homerunners.

2007-11-07T19:22:00.000+05:30

same old spin on a whole new thing.

only complete blindness can bring around
a new world order under the sound.

today seems as good a day as any, same old sunshine and same old stratus driven by the winds of consistence.

fifteen seconds.

2007-10-12T22:14:00.000+05:30

ersatz something else of nothing less with tequila and gin.
i sold my soul to the devil but he failed to read the finer print.

dislocate.

2007-10-06T21:46:00.001+05:30

sick and tired of wanting to be one of those wunderkind kids with some underlined luck, with their steadfast mantras of everyday a little prayer everyday a little fuck. been drawn; with coal, or like mayflies to a sweeter summer to this ideology. preaching an anthem stilled out with the dots and dashes of silence. i'm a one wit blunder. my love still goes out to the kids with their heads in the clouds but with their hearts in the right place. it's so easy to forget we're all held fast by the frailest strings spun by relative perception alone.

i hope you never.

es muss sein.

2007-09-30T02:30:00.000+05:30

been cozied up into nightfalls like safety blankets from a sweeter life. i feel overexposed in the sunshine; everything turned out blank and white. all i ever did was build a tower of cards out of my winning hand.

we love making mistakes we can count on to trip over. we all want to fuck the messiah and forget the message. we only want to be able to breathe in time with the swift, passing days. we crave the negative as much as we seek out the positive.

you call it balance; i call it being with you.

mouse in manhattan.

2007-09-02T11:28:00.000+05:30

ran off down smoke-shrouded roads and empty lightspots last weekend, only to be blinded by phosphenes and star-crossed supernovas. but then again, all the sleeper hits i'd written (off) were comatose.

i'm not earning all of it back, but i'm scavenging.

there
is
nothing
out
there
that
cannot
be
mine.

good, take that thought and hold on tight. keep feeding the dying light.

vertebrae.

2007-07-30T02:27:00.001+05:30

so it's a monday. not that anybody's keeping track. day of the moon, lunar daybreak, first day of the week but of nothing really new. last year was a stilt-and-run of slate grey afternoons fading into mimosa sunsets. sunbursts against velvet skies of city lights falling on evening eyes. making up excuses on the whim of the minute and buying myself handfuls of spared time. maybe that's all it ever was, borrowed time and borrowed pages from some other story i started on but hit a wall with. those days when i was growing a spine just to hear it snap.

sometimes i want all of it back. sometimes i want something even better.

1) get a dog, 2) name the dog chuck palahniuk, 3) have lengthy conversations with chuck palahniuk over a cup of coffee.

2007-06-18T00:30:00.000+05:30

looking for an answer is the easy cop out. living with the question is doing it the hard way. i've always tended to get lost in shortcuts.

i can't function when i can't hear you live. i need those million dollars.

moving houses or moving bodies; i'm always doing it alone.

2007-06-12T16:56:00.000+05:30

fundamentally. rhetorically. i miss her and i used to dream of breathing. nowadays, i don't dream of anything but videogames.

game over, insert coin?

i wish i hadn't thought of that.

2007-05-29T18:29:00.000+05:30

sometimes you even pause to wonder;
do the rock stars with the chart-breaking, heart-topping, 'i miss you' songs on mtv ever really get their babies back?

i hope they don't care.

fractalize.

2007-05-28T05:31:00.001+05:30

you are nothing but the first in a long line of never-get-betters. posterchildren for the utterly screwed. lemmings in therapy. lifesavers in davey jones's locker. eloping with words right, left, and center but never holding them down long enough to play wedding bands. one night verbal stands and empty fingers on empty hands. i find it impossible to face sunrises and sunsets all by myself. carpe diem, and you can grasp with all your dying fingers but you can't seize yesterday.

discovering that you've lost the map.

i made millions of wishes on millions of falling stars and then realized that i had none left to steer by.