Tuesday, April 21, 2009

All the galaxies we ponder are no more. The pulsars have shifted into new matter and the white hot dwarfs have formed clouds of the future. We will never see it. When we look out, the light is going away so we know we see the past. The past is reaching us, in our now. Our now is barely touching. When our sun dies, we won't see it, we will never know the type of life to extend beyond Earth. Can a thought carry on? Energy quiver, ripple through the dust and riddle of space..the actual space between spaces? Will it hold worth? Will it know of its intelligence? I can wriggle my toes in the green grass, hear the ducks chase and quack over my head, but I don't see the future when I look. Everything has happened before. I am now. When will I shift with the red and happen to be?

Monday, April 13, 2009

The average man who does not know what to do with his life, wants
another one which will last forever.
-- Anatole France

Suppose an infinity of insecurity, indecisiveness and surety of no
destination. The destination is to never have a destination. To never
end. Why hope for this? Why do we ponder away this whole life, that
we know is here, now? I will freeze with the joy I have, so full,
brimmed with this life only too aware that it will all end. I stop.
I barely breathe in the middle of a gust of glee while the knowing
and the ease smash into each other, showing me how uncompr-
omising reality....is. It rolls on my tongue. The most delicate of
flavors. I want everyone to have a bite.

Saturday, April 11, 2009

How do you show what you are made of, what the sum of time composed? The width of your ass, the amount in your wallet? What to show? Make a list, crack the code you couldn't break in elementary during tag, during recess, after school. Pour out your spleen to every one you brush against and listen to yourself cram for the exam of being a person, being somebody, that matters. How can you show the work when you don't know the answer? Who grades it anyway? I never looked at anyone else's paper. Why need to show mine?

The Bun

The Bun
If you don't like rabbits, you can suck it, shove it and then go soak your head.