August 2009
17 posts
a light absorbed.
the day breaks cold. grey light creeps over the mountains and dilutes itself in the water of the sound. tall buildings downtown are lost in a pressing fog, and windows are slowly lit with a light absorbed. softly dispersed in the clouds high above the streets, puddles of light drip down with the rain. it falls lightly, gathers slowly in the small spaces of the road, pushes at the edges, gains...
one more, please
dear sweet jesus, the fumes are rising, the fact is, you cannot guess my birthday the staggering man in the doorway says. backing up, shuffling forward. i’ll be your next father he tells a young man before he blows smoke in his face. laughing. he always laughs. this place will drown us all. the water will rise, it’s easy to imagine. calls will go unanswered and camping ...
2714 worden st.
After a while though, the walls were marked entirely. A displayed collection of drunken mistakes and endless laughter, a mattress on the floor and a bright red couch off the curb. Broken tile, stray cats, and a smoke filled bathroom. Still, with the mess of it all threatening to overwhelm, to well up choking in the depths of sleep, it shook and was made clear in the hours of stretched dusk and...
my friend boris' thoughts on new jersey
“NJ is bearable when I don’t think about other places I could or would rather be.”
Maybe it’s just me, but I think this is true no matter where you are. Contrary to an opinion even I voice sometimes, the world is not a small place. It’s big. Like, really big.
if
for some reason you still read my blog, please take the time to look at the last few posts my friend jessie has made at somehow.tumblr.com
she writes more beautifully than i could ever hope.
my world.
feels like a freezer without you.
a sunset forgotten.
i can see the mountains from my balcony, across the lake and then across the ocean, they wait on the peninsula. they’ve been waiting a long time. i take a drink. the ice is cold and clinks against my teeth.
the weight of my heart beats against the warm cloth of her hand and she says it’s telling secrets in a language only her heart understands. i don’t know what they are, but i...
daylight.
on a ferry crossing the sound I draw x’s on my kunckles. a sign of boredom, a sign of loss. the steel rumbles a subtle song against my back as we move across the deep water. out on the deck it’s surprisingly cold, the wind finding its way in through the holes in my shoes, the thinness of my shirt. clouds hang heavy overhead and are mostly white but a little grey and they move fast...
