Masslessly

Inside this car, we are a secret we are not the
flashing lights, the empty cups, the wodka-and-orange juice, the break-and-enter weather experience of the mixtape chatter we are a secret.
And you, asleep on my lap, are what used to be my feet.
I lift your head and slip out of the window masslessly. I walk to the lake, I look at the fish hiding behind their mouths and along with the sheet lighting around me I throw in a coin which turns green like your eyes - which are closed.
I mock your eyebrows
while holding your head in my hands by ma

Newest

A miss is as good as a smileYear-trust is located neck-up. Carried around jested, barely missing; hounded.
Morals, when will they come - on whose chopped-off legs? In which desert's countenance will the blind man have to feel around for them, he whose fingerwisdoms
(covered with clay) grow more slowly than earth's continents?
What price does a catch come at? How many fingernails? A miss is as good as a smile
by ~horsemarmalade

5000 miles across the pageTo walk through a market square belonging to blind people. To be nothing but sound. To buy apples with one's steps, and to make the caves in their ears collapse with just one bite.

To wave good-bye, leaving the resonance of a grin behind. 5000 miles across the page
by ~horsemarmalade

the thing about moviesThe thing about movies is, you don't let them sit there, you don't set them aside like a toothbrush before going to bed, you don't take them out like fake teeth, you don't hide them underneath your pillow.
You don't go to bed with them.
Caught on film, no chance but to surrender - much like the time you messed with scotch tape as a child and got it into your hair and tried to get it out with gum because a friend who turned out not to be a friend said it would help.
Fuck memories,
leave them on the doorstep, before turning the key to your home, the thing about movies
by ~horsemarmalade

BrotherlyLoveYouMotherfuckers
by ~horsemarmalade

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#4

Mon Jan 29, 2007, 9:38 AM

The underground railroad.
Which station to get off at?
It runs through my brain.

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Comments

~Fabulousmissali Aug 26, 2007, 4:11:39 PM

The time has come, the walrus said, to speak of many things

~Timeturner May 14, 2007, 10:32:32 AM

So what're you waiting for, anyway?

--
my past--I--/am stuck in/things of thousand words/concert girls/known and unknown/hair brown to black to blonde/far away/and hating me/and goodbye.

~moon-lapse May 5, 2007, 12:53:11 AM

you're gonna grow old
you're gonna grow cold
bearing signs on the avenue
for your own personal Waterloo
you're bearing signs on the avenue
for your own personal Waterloo now

we'll fight we'll fight
we'll fight for your music halls
and dying cities

they'll fight they'll fight
they'll fight for your neural walls
and plasticities
and precious territory