Friday, July 9, 2010

nobody really actually believes anybody else or often listens
many of the things i have loved best i have never even seen
tonight the light coming through the red curtains has it apple-shaded enough to want to bite through, i think of someone's skin, i think of my skin
any hour i don't talk to my mother i am growing very old
though often when i am actually around my mother my skin makes such loud noise i can hardly think
another house
i should probably bite the skin and eat it and digest it, it would birth a set of clothes
i would wear the clothes and go near people, it would stink loud
today at the glass door to the backyard the blue bird from yesterday appeared again he seemed to knock twice i was looking for food
two bananas and various forms of pretzel dipped into wettish substance i read your instructions for how to not want to eat, the worm of slight repetitions under long mind, something stretched in big sound of fire at an asp
in the bathroom i read john cage saying in so many words because there is no message there need not ever be response
the buttons on this machine could find a way to type a message to someone larger than this home i'm sure but i don't have the sight inside me any more this year or i am too smushed or stupid or there is the color of my bones
i don't think i need to be any body ever over numbers, there could exist a perfect mall, another one and i could buy a machine that stitched itself against this one here and sent itself into the center of the lock
the rhyming machine the color machine the ten boxes of brownie mix
my father's ring somewhere hidden in the house unless mom found it, i can't not remember which, i can't not remember if i actually can not remember or if i am willfully allowing disambiguation in the name of saying something more indirectly in the hope that something like a hole or god could find its way into the stupid typing these days do not even demand but more likely give me something i can bend, something worth laughing at in public and ignoring every night now that i have been remaindered now that everyone is grease
can't even remember the last time i saw an insect other than the one i crushed the other night under a soft book
i had not read the book and likely never will


Susan said...

no eyes no ears no body no mind no realm of eyes no mind consciousness
beautiful beautiful

goatrodeo said...

"that's what i'm talking about".

Maggie May said...

remaindered now everyone is grease