total bookgasm

came home to the essence of karyna mcglynn on my goddamn doorstep.





THE SUN IS SHINING BEST DAY EVER

still in celebration of

no direction. ann arbor is the loneliest place to be lonely. rain slapping the window panes. they weren't building a treehouse, they were cutting the tree down. i want more meaning, or purpose.

-u--.

definition

__________________ n. infestation with cysticerci.


__________________ vt. to utilize less of a sound reproduction or transmission device than optimally possible.


__________________ adj. 1. not orderly or stable : DISORDERED 2. liable to vary : UNCERTAIN 3. not determined or resolved 4. not paid or adjusted 5. unpopulated. 6. not fixed or established.


__________________ n. a crystalline sterol, C28H44O, synthesized by yeast from sugars or derived from ergot and converted under ultraviolet irradiation to vitamin D2.


__________________ n. 1. sirius. 2. procyon.


__________________ n. embarrassment or humiliation caused by failure or disappointment.


__________________ adj. 1. lacking teeth. 2. lacking force


__________________ n. 1. a woman porter or doorkeeper, esp. in a convent. 2. a charwoman.


__________________ adj. 1. occurring unexpectedly and unintentionally. 2. not intrinsic : NONESSENTIAL 3. mus. of or denoting a sharp, flat, or natural not indicated in the key signature. --n. 1. a nonessential circumstance or attribute. 2. mus. a chromatically altered note not belonging to the key signature.




IN RE: LISTENING TO 'THE GIFT' OF VELVET U'S WHITE LIGHT/WHITE HEAT

because it's that feeling of my body not being my body not wanting my body to be my body my brain wishing hoping trying to GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET

america aka america

back from






nothing lasts that long

i think someone is building a treehouse across the street

often (disambiguation)

it is bereft of explanation,
it is beyond consideration.
at this point i don't know where
we is where you am where she says

each of her feet is a lake
she says object she says
obliteration i think obligation,

accidentally intentional, i buy another
round. i take another hit, i
ask another question.

it's not that i want to hear
the answer. i don't even wait for it--

i just watch her face, listen
to the lilt and pull of her voice,
falling intonation, pitching cadence,

the golden leaves at my back,
wind through the fresh shorn trees.

hail mary, thou art all hollows
of this airnoise, thou art this final
flight of steps. thou art my separate
moment--the space of self, the stuff
of autumnal first moon, this equinox,
this november.

thou art the one i fear most.

i touch my elbow. i touch my lips.
i hold my finger to that moment.

i ask again. she has to rephrase herself.
i don't listen i don't wait
for the answer i ask myself
another question

but what will we do
when the oberon runs out
but what will we do
when this season ends,
bleeding yellow

into the tendrils of the next

why leave?