Monday, May 22, 2017

Towards a New Set

what is ahead has appeared


like an endless glassy lake

for a time so long

it is all I can recall

and all that I expect to see 

each new day I wake and greet my still life

with the unromantic acceptance 

and sturdy endurance of a well-fed field hand

but today there was a ripple

something moving out there!

it was faint and distant 

yet my chest parted for it

I had to manually close myself back up

"A little premature, but good practice"

that tiny event...its discrete animation...

it thrilled me!

an animated disruption

to this set design of apathy

a little fold of introduction

to rolling versions of my future

I want very much

to meet


Thursday, April 13, 2017

Other People Love

Painting by Eric Fischl.

Have you ever
been unable to know
how you feel about something
simply because someone else
loves it so much?

...loves it so much
all you can see
when you look at it
is them?


Today I tried to see this painting

stared and stared

took this photo so I could try again later

because no matter where I stood

all I could see was you.


Saturday, April 8, 2017


greys and browns

a nude coiled into a ball
her backbone a nautilus

you shave and become the face
of Spring


grass grows

even the nude unfolds
for you


Sunday, March 26, 2017

Ab Shots, Baseball Hats, Tattoos

men looking for love
or pretending they're looking for love
post photos of themselves standing next to motorcycles, sitting on top of motorcycles, water skiing, snow skiing, wearing baseball hats with sunglasses mounted over the brim, sticking their tongues out with the "horns" hands you see from "rockers"

they pose with their shirts off, show off their tattoos, stand in their bathrooms and take selfies, sit in their cars with their headsets on and take selfies, post pics from every single vacation they've ever taken to prove they're living the dream

they post images of themselves with past loves, post pics of their feet up with bottles of beer, post pics of trucks and sunsets,
trucks AT sunset

and everyone's favorite places are 1)the beach 2) the lake and 3) cuddling at home

ab shots are some of the most embarrassing to look at, next are the risky business sunglasses and a suit, then The Terminator head shots

men looking for love are no less desperate than women looking for love

then there are people like me, we look too serious and remind people of the kids in high school who didn't have fun at prom

most of us didn't even go

nothing about dating makes sense to us, it is all a distortion of nature, like bears wearing bathing suits or birds playing banjos

maybe our ineptitude is best understood in context, a form of natural selection, our genes are meant to fade away

Sunday, March 19, 2017


Every single day I walked to the sea. The paths I took, littered with tiny shops, trash bins, and punctuated by large wooden church doors and paintings of virgin marys, became to me like the sheets of my bed, hugging me, surrounding me, enveloping me, and comforting me from three sides.

The fourth side, always my escape, was higher, but no further from me there, in Spain, than today, here in America. Infinity has no finite depth, so my thoughts travel endlessly in circles, each breath a dream, each dream a loop...Italian, Spanish, Hebrew, French, English...


Friday, March 17, 2017

Played Deeply

music / deep / there / then gone /as i change my thoughts / the world intervenes / disruptions

each note  / each phrase / dislodged / plays / attach and abandon / attach and abandon 

does it multiply / does it stay strong in its form even as its waves are set free / was it ever complete?


over and over / separated  phrases / come back / to kiss me / 

more and more familiar / becoming more and more 
discrete / evolving into fullness / i am missed as much as i miss / 


Monday, March 13, 2017

The Sensible Affordable Version

there might not be anything else
or anyone else
the tinny sound 
of a cheap car radio
tires out of alignment announcing rotations
and my mind seeing straight ahead
like it's a 

is this really my new life?

this might be all there is

wearing flannel to bed
surrendering the last of my
femininity and sensuality
to keep me numb


this might be all there is

life designed around sensible shoes
and affordable supermarket food


Wednesday, March 8, 2017

Traveling Companion

 / burn the letter after reading / (there are no letters, only looks) / (we talk in memories) / show me stories / colors fill me / perforations / the city we share is anywhere / I can only get here with you


save me a seat / you never sit down / except when you have to / did you know I could hear you / that night you sat in my room / I remember


I made it / you left me for so long / here we are again / now I listen to the gentle sounds / your eyes ask me / they say "tell me what we do again?" / my eyes say "okay" / (temptation)


I tell you  / we start over / I can only get here with you


Thursday, March 2, 2017

Planned Obsolescence


it's electrifying

can't handle

the charge

push closer

till the buzz

pull out


the sting

is life

unplug to

die off

the wired box

of stolen consciousness

sends your messages

without you

your brain

is left behind

and your heart

is obsolete


Wednesday, March 1, 2017

Fear Internalized

It's a damp cloth set atop
once hot coals 
now nearly out

the tiniest flicker struggling
to stay lit

that is how it feels to be 
bound by intellectual fear

afraid to think too hard
afraid to follow a lead
afraid because trying
to understand 
might lead to understanding
and to learn anything other
than what is being taught
is dangerous

Thinking and curiosity don't
always yield important results
but they always make the 
field of view deeper for me

To struggle with an idea 
is to take it on as a companion
to talk to it and
to listen to it

Allowing expanisve
relationships with ideas 
is one way to learn 
how to have
with people, plants, animals,
and the world in general

If being intellectually fearless
is the attitude of an explorer

Intellectual fear is the 
shadow cast by a recluse


Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Never Know

if i never
get back
to where i belong

does that mean
i never
belonged there?

Saturday, February 4, 2017

Back Then

Things I thought

back then

I believed


I had photos and books

Carpets and plates

Sandals and rainboots




In a flash

All is gone


Saved only myself




All I told you

all I knew

I believed it then


Sunday, January 29, 2017


when magic is no longer
found in the stuff of everyday

birds who should have
flown south months ago
standing around parking lot puddles
looking for fish in January
are no longer a sign

they are hungry and cold
with dirtied feathers
majesty dimmed

lost birds
a statement
not a question
certainly not an element
in any story

i squint and pretend they are

close my eyes and see nothing

open them and find the
omen- less aviators still in bad shape
choppily wading through a thin
sheet of snow over asphalt

after a minute i realize
they are dangerously unafraid of cars

maybe the sky is not as inviting
without belief in its vast extents,
its existence beyond the horizon line

maybe these
out of place birds have also lost their
belief in magic
thus their will to fly
afraid they will never find better
than this

without magic this is all there is
puddles, cars, asphalt, hunger,
and at least one human who
sits nearby and stares

maybe i should bring bread
or seeds or

i can't afford fish

maybe they will be gone
the next time i come back
and i won't have to feel

i drive away


Friday, January 13, 2017

Inflated Statistics

It's a bot.

My visitors are all bots.

Countries of origin listed

are fabrications,

automated slights of hand,

wishful thinking in data form.

These stats reflect

imaginary travels of readers

who do not exist.

My blog is visited daily

by numerical sets of tasks



to bounce from place to place

leaving traces of connections with geographies

purposefully misleading.

Despite this,

I am always ready to believe

a sentient being

has visited.


Friday, January 6, 2017


waiting / trying / wanting 

 / settling / sane / quiet / 

waking / watching my back

 / living a wrinkled life.

Wednesday, September 7, 2016

Change In Temperature

Snow will fill my pack.

Sun will melt what I have held.



Tuesday, August 23, 2016

A Different Kind Of Road Trip

Context: The Newslinq post says this man´s father has Alzheimer´s Disease and through music, he gets him back for a few minutes.

Monday, August 8, 2016

Spend Myself On Today

There are others besides myself
who hear blood like wind
move bones like furniture
around in houses made of memory
of oceans
with lovers long gone
in nights dark with paper raindrops
love letters torn into pieces
by remembering

These people know that day and night
are the same if you make no effort
to live in the world that your body
sits in

Even when I sit with you
though you are gone
--have never been here--
I collect my breathes inside
and spend them all to turn
the lights on when my eyes open

I spend myself on today
even with you inside me.


Wednesday, July 6, 2016

Reminded To Stay In Progress

so many peoples' minds run to ends that are prescribed

how invigorating to see one that hasn´t been captured

reminded to stay in progress

working together with the unknown


Tuesday, July 5, 2016

Lonely Octopus

removed from various paths of circulation

have you ever been

yourself taken out of the mix?

prohibited from re-entering

your most familiar?

have you ever 

been excluded

and become foreign

out of necessity rather than by choice?

knowing it is done by actions

long before it is declared in words,

like a break-up whose murmurs stir lazily the unaquainted

--circles out too far to feel any real loss--?

lists of facts confirm the separation

intentions guessed at infrequently

and only in whispers 

mostly to pass the time

my parting took place long ago

my tentacles pulled away

long before this notice

forced off quietly

in some spots pried away

certain objects and people knowingly released 

impulses steering me towards the inevitable

I did not want to go

I did not want to leave you

this fourth of July I feel I am an octopus who floated away

still loving what I was most attached to

i close my eyes and swim

i swim

have you ever been

pried away?


Monday, July 4, 2016

corrected: VIKTOR POPKOV;YESTERDAY at the Russian Museo

Collection Of The Russian Museum
Saint-Petersburg / Malaga

*when initially posted, the second image below was misattributed. It has now been corrected; the artist´s name appears properly.

Vladimir Gavrilov
Marzo Alegre
additional image reference

Viktor Popkov
 September in the Mezen River
 additional image reference

Yesterday at the museum I was filled with the goodness of paint.
Lines and strokes and fat globs of paint.

There were colours that were magnificent. The orange of Gavrilov's
Marzo Alegre does not show true in the photo, instead it looks yellow.  In life it was a vibrant, pulsating,
warmly-glowing lit-up orange, splendidly lighted
by staff who instinctively knew its brilliance and it stole the whole show.

Popkov´s river scene was no less dramatic in its colours although it did not
take my breath from me when I turned its corner like the Gavrilov. Despite
being compared and coming up short, it has formidible formal qualities and
is a strong, strong painting with a point of view I appreciate.

Thursday, June 30, 2016

No More Afternoon Hours

climate here is like a weathered coal miner
and I an old interloper at the mouth of the hole;
I have been warned.

I will see you again in late


falling away from the heat and into this womb of marble
biblioteca - cream coloured library
call yourself anything! I am already devoted

your refrigeration and its coolness are a summer lover's arms
down here in the south where a sleep after midday dinner is
a necessary hiding
from the suffocation of
a heat-sealed-envelope:


here, siesta means preservation and education
not laziness
steamy street asphalt collects in sticky wads
carried around on heels like discarded gum

siesta; how judgmental the world beyond
when in practice nothing else presents as reasonable whatsoever?

siesta in julio
siesta in agosto

words that situate me like arrows
pin me to a board directly in-line with the Spanish sun

tomorrow´s hours will not be the same as today´s
and i will miss
my chilly book-mausoleum desserts

nothing promised in place of what is being taken away
simply the words "summer hours" and the numbers
9:00 - 14:00 in a language I now
know well enough to
know to sweat upon first reading

little room with little window and curtains
my hands and arms will learn better
how to close you off to late day hot wind
and how to remove
myself from glaring-whole-walls of spotlight
searing intensity being their primary,
unrelenting feature

location plus season


Tuesday, June 28, 2016

Stop Fussin'

convo with myself: what was all the commotion about? losing hold and dropping into the void only confirmed (to me) there is no dropping out...there are also no smoke or mirrors. there are only a bunch of other stories, other people, other eyes with fears of the same non-existent void. that ought to teach me for thinkin´.


You Are Not A Mystery

a mystery begs

to be solved

and your absence

never begged for anything

except to be forgotten


Monday, June 27, 2016

Who & What Will I See?

how thin the line
between belief and disbelief

between being hungry
and thinking hungry

between holding on
and holding nothing


Friday, June 24, 2016

A JOURNEY: Not Your Sure Thing

all it takes is one minute

listening, I know:


...what it looks like

when I close my eyes and

disappear into the rolling colours

whose mist columns spin and tease

a full pallet of electricity out of my chest...

my soul´s sensors

slender air-bones form a harbor

against a backdrop

in indigo hue

caress a private inside-space





far from the girl you knew

but I hold her, too

far from what was once my home

I am not lost:

My journey is so far beyond the lines of

lost and found,

when I reconnect with you,

you´ll see.

You'll feel

the difference,


That is,

if I even let you in:

No more am I

your "sure thing."


Do Not Follow The Lead(er)

Is it a feature of Autism to want to be
an Astronaut?

To want to be surrounded by
outer space?

Can a person...become Autistic
the way a person
becomes a Doctor,
a Lawyer,
a Pharmacist,
or (a) Thief?

Never imagined myself saying:

"When I grow up I want to

It wouldn´t be something I would
choose to be,
but if it turned
out to be
something that I am,
I suppose it would also be
I always

(...except I do not think
that I am.)

(...although I would not  mind
an Astronaut.)

(...although I cannot be
because then I would
better at math.)


Thursday, June 23, 2016

Care For Your Passengers



Highlight what sits up front,

even when it does not drive!


21st century Passenger Safety:

Beyond Civil Egineering.


Monday, June 20, 2016

Dream It Twice

(From my notebook, 10 Junio, 2016)

I will draw.

I will dance.

I will dream of icicles,
popsicles, dandelions,
sunfish, swordfish,
oceans full of glittering
starlight, and of ham,
ham of the kind in
sandwiches which I shall
never eat of again. I won´t
miss the ham. But the starlight,
I should be sure to dream it twice.

--suzy devere


Wednesday, April 13, 2016

Life (With You)

if there is any faculty 
of mine left
at the end...

of any day

of any night

of any reel

it is only a whispered shadow
of a feather 

because you know 
at the end of any (moment)
(MINUTE) (day,night,reel)

all i have and am

should be experiencing

life elsewhere,

with you.


Monday, April 11, 2016


and i know i've done wrong.
i'm no saint.
and i don't want to be any martyr.
but i am sorry.

for (some) things.
i try (to phase into kindness)

Sunday, April 10, 2016

Transformative Sex

riding charge
shared vectors

wrapping friction
multinet span

stem to sun
stem to sun

irides dear
roll in rising pockets

galaxy accordion
ocean floor heat fissure

change excites me
(have you missed me?)

flats and points grip
engaged resistance
static hum

into form
past release

six and a half seconds past
pulling primed sense envelopes

(our)single system

wet pressure choreography
(we are one)sympathetic muscle


(i feel)subtly empowered in believing
you can't have it without me.


Friday, April 8, 2016

Beyond What Is

what do you want to hear?

breath of silver 

words of reflection

i will repent

in silence.

Physics For Grasshoppers


a wheel









A New Bond

response card reads:

It will be the

pleasure of the Sea

to witness

your wedding.

Sea +1


A new bond 

made of free will

and with eternity's 



"Freed Caryatid Marries"

Freed Caryatid chooses 

new bond

at the edge
of a welcoming sea


Thursday, April 7, 2016

Fashion Faux-Saw

i don't need what
anyone's selling me,

i just need you
with me.

funny how you're
my weak spot,
but you make
me stronger.

i imagined i saw you
today and i nearly
called out your name...

but deep down i knew
it couldn't be you

because if it was
you would have
seen me, too

you had surf hair
and a sportscoat
and a scarf on
with shorts

and it (i know
it, i know it,
it sounds
like a squinting mess,
at best, but it) was


too hot
for g.q.


maybe it was you?


miss your
mr. know-it-all
and your
(extra) today

hearts and flowers
and a pinch
for a second
so you
really know it's me

and sending sun,
so it won't
be lonely


Wednesday, April 6, 2016

Scroll Panorama

could have sworn i just 


right to left

here's your city

right to left

here's your city

right to left

is it a paper 


rolled out scrolled out drunken carandache

where are my carandache? 

my water cup?

my fingernails?

panorama in a livingroom 

on a mountaintop

hanging paper right to left till i reach the end

why is there an end?

i don't want the view to end

close my eyes and buy more paper


more paper

drawing on the paper right to left

left to right is how i roll it

drawing in a livingroom on a mountaintop


here is your city

here is my home


Dye Packs II.

body is irrelevant to

method of sky 

 and sea


What colour is my love?

What colour is my pain?


What colour is a rainbow?

Dye Packs I.

there's a dye pack

in that paper

who you foolin?

used to be some

now it's all

the pages


pinafores & britches

my eyelet
little ones

where have you gone?

have you gone

without you
your mother
is coming


more than one
pram lost


Tuesday, April 5, 2016

Drove Through

(read the areas...)


morse code in dark skull

bar code planted in trees'

precise pattern shadows

across asphalt gps point at 2:00

(read the areas...)

saying i'll wait

is not the same

as saying take your time