only slightly....

Erotic Playground

2009-09-08T17:00:00.000-07:00

act II, scene 2.4

A: (looks in mirror)

A': (looks back)

B: (looks back at A looking back)

A': (has no room in his mouth to produce)

A: (punctuates his nothing space)

B: (is no longer concerned with his torso)

Spatterings

2009-09-06T20:51:00.001-07:00

these are the remainders of our lustful dividing (which is to say, when grouped, we produce thus:)

What we are not is a boa constrictor.

The man is astounded by how the woman could stand on such a dirty surface. The woman gazes across the river; she ponders why man destroys beauty to create rigid patterns out of cut stone.

Exclamation moves toward question, fully dressed. "Between us punctuation there is an ocean", exclaimed the exclamation. "Although," started question mark, "The presence of lines does not appear too terribly toxic."

If levels of toxicity are in question, they're probably very high.

Staircase to staircase, I may place a hurried foot upon your hearth

from the dream time to real time the body started out as a metaphor - who knows what it will end as. what we need is reduction, a shoddily constructed nest or camouflage, a flimsy home, a thinking cap.

Somehow the pivot in my knowhow remains in disruption.

Greatest Misses

2009-09-05T12:45:00.000-07:00

these are the best of the worst of my recent draft of a speech to mark an anniversary:

When the painted lines we use to divide my side of the street from yours wear away underfoot,

when the simple melody we sit and suffer, revise and append, revere...
when the resonance decays and the chords rise up
to force us to the guillotine

When the consequences of ignoring consequence as no mere metonymy pile upon our cracking ribs

when they break

when the paradigm through which we let our separate scriptures sit adjacent breaks...

but we're not scripture, we're sculpture
and we were never adjacent

we're only what we dismiss in each other
when we dismiss each other as the sole misfortune,
as apparition, as the exemption

as such, we are always overfed

-rik

f1rst p0st!!!!!1!!1@!

2009-09-04T01:22:00.000-07:00

This is the blog, a place to work and play

*begin speech*

lovers,
here on this, our consecrated hallowed
will we commence to meet each other
as organs, growing in the muck of our
collected cytoplasm
lovers, i implore you
share with us your failures
your train wrecks
your dead possum poses
your repose
entreat our acknowledgment
we will bleed for you

submit to us @ slightlywest@gmail.com