Monday, January 16, 2012


its one of the things, youknowandsaid, its a molecule and a force and a wave but its everywhere but you cant touch it yet it is captured by leaves a million times a day and encased in sugar and there you exercise it as energy and thus you move and feel and gesture and talk and form and if you were still you would cease to exist; it can be broken into colours, because each colour is just a different speed of light, and if there were no eyes we would feel these colours as heat and is heat is the exhaust of energy which can be neither created nor destroyed and heat comes from the transformation of one thing into another, and transformation is motion, moving from one thing into another, moving from one moment into another, when a plant grows it is moving very slowly, when you move you are growing very quickly, light is the part of the atom that broke off and veered off into spaceand it can be slowed down or sped up and nothing moves faster than light einstein said but he also said i made that up because its the only way everything i said makes any sense, and maybe there would be no you, no laughing, no thoughts, no pain, no bullshit or drama or paintings or touch or violence if there wasn't light, bleeding out of the sun omnidirectionally which means in all possible directions because it is a sphere and this is the world you sit in casually, and in the beginning all things were hydrogen which is the simplest atom in the universe and it is by smashing hydrogens together, they say, that you get heliums, and by smashing that together you get other stuff and so on eventually and all the time and every time the little simple atoms smash together they leave a little debris called light which is how we all move and essentially this means we are congealed light in complicated forms

Saturday, January 07, 2012


i'll never be a lot of things. mayor or president, for instance. and i don't believe in genesis, but i don't believe in the big bang either. so much for me, rootless. no gang to join. if they got me now there'd be no one to revenge me. ah well. speachless, speakless, spokeless. frozen river. i'm alone, i need a spirit to talk to tonight, some ghost. a man with a sparrow's head in a pinstripe suit. here he comes. he slams a knife into the table between us.

"buy me a drink?"

"sure, they're selling a local dark"

"tell them to bring it to me in a discarded coffee tin"

the bartender, with her crow's smile, never left the bar. she and the sparrow smile at each other. she dips the coffee can into the night and he draws it from the window, drinks it and let's the dark run down his face. a blast of noise burps above us, above the ceiling.

"where you from?"

"out there, no one invites me inside anymore"

"they forget"


the ceiling bends down and it rumbles and it groans

"what the fuck are they doing up there?" asked the sparrow and lit one of my cigarettes

"it's a ritual. they turn their souls inside out" i explained.

"good idea. do they have to bust the ceiling like that?"

"yes, i think so. can you do magic?"

"sure, kid." he pulled his sleeves, showed the inside of the left one to me. i squinted down into it, saw a tunnel in it, underground rivers, water falling into caverns and bats and rats.

"that's some shirt"

"thanks, my mother made it for me"

we both drank quietly. a bunch of night spilled out the sides of the can, splashed little black forevers on the table and the floor.

"no stars" i commented.

"there are not necessarily stars in night" said the sparrow

"that's your knife?" i asked

"knives belong to those that hold them" he said

"god, it's true"

"can i come with you?"


we left the bar, discarded the contents of our pockets upon the floor, sewing thread, radical pamphlets, shards of mirrors, butane lighters, cameos, bits of candle, lighting bolts, dry tears, stray tones, poison eye, crayfish claws, old keys, fish heads, stones that crawled into our shoes, somehow,

i took him along the river's edge, he played with little fires in his hands and threw them up into the air, watch them trail downwards like leaves, blue fires, red fires, purple fires. he danced around in circles, threw up a green fire and made a face

"the birds are all confused, have you noticed? they're flying north and west and only sometime south," i said

"they will find their way, i think," he said, "but who knows, with all these machines, what they will change"

"and then?"

"the green gods buried themselves far down in the earth, and they crawl around down there, filling their wombs with seeds, and roots, garbage, decomposing trees. they live for millions of years, you know, far beyond you and me, they don't care about hiding a few thousand ages, and look..."

he pointed up with one clawed hand at the sky, unsounding, where storms writhed around, big black night clouds, each one a fat monster bigger than a city

"once i stood on top of a mountain," i said to him,"and could see everything. groves, hills, little rivers, single trees and whole forests. and i saw a herd of wild horses. stallions and mares and foals, all fugitive and wandering in this neverending wilderness. they were grazing in a little field. there was not a road or anything like that to be seen. they lived in the foothills of the rocky mountains. i watched them, they couldn't see me, and i watched them breathe. and i adored them, and then, there was something no one heard, and they lifted their heads and ran into the forest, undulating in their running like a lake of muscles and wild sex. ran into the wilderness on an instinct. and it was this then that i learned i was a body, made of so much water, and stones, calcium for bones, iron tasted on a cut finger, carbon like a coal mine, like burned wood, like me,"

"you are so little" said the sparrow, and the moon gave birth to a salmon that swam through the aurora borealis like seaweed