09 March 2007



This is my friend mr. piLLow
He's a very serious man
Occasionally he dances

He keeps butterflies
A whole room full of them
boisterous butterflies

But that is not his business, only his fun
Cloud manufacture
Everyday
Except blue sky lullaby
then he goes to the beach
to feel the sand

05 March 2007



7:00 pm, monday
any monday in any town
my life on repeat

want to feel alive
want to feel young
want to feel love
no
feel nothing
what a scared little boy
i have 23 dollars

want to see the world
want to see the truth
want to see my self
no
see nothing
what a foolish little boy
i have 23 dollars

want to be wealthy
want to be perfect
want to be sex-exy
no
be nothing
what a meretricious young man
i have 23 dollars

those brief moments
when we reach beyond
intangible surreality
somewhere between breathing in
and breathing out
Life completely suspended

A finger point
an eyelash flash
cigarettes glow orange
black t-shirts, uniforms

and the human spirit ebbs and flows

between martinis and Chuck Berry
between a cold beer and the alarm next morning
Yes, Yes!
Somewhere in between the flicker of a candle
and a cartoon smash

that nameless sentiment
beats and pulses
writhes, flails
drowns

i am a video screen collage
flicker fast flash
i am music,
life made audible
i am art
splashes of supercilious expression
in a brown
plastic
frame


*photo courtesy ryan hurtgen