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Terra-Cotta Armed Response

Into the sweep of things

into another room

in a settled fashion

asphyxia implied

wrapped in umbilical hinges

I didn’t want you to think

about where all the words went

last year

absorbed under the tongue

below the opposite

of your control


in jealous knots

subtracting the bulb

from the room we are in

giving you the power

to say a name

any name

at this point

to perforate

that sober shudder

brittle as the smell of sulfur

in a basilica

It’s your turn to sleep

laying down a faint capital

of Autumn blur

evening cocktails

coating the trees

theories sealed firmly into stories.

Wolves by Ryan Adams from the album: 1984


Ryan Adams “Wolves”

I can’t ready the signs
I don’t know what I’m feeling
But I know you’re lying
I know what you’re thinking


Miranda, That Ghost Just Isn't Holy Anymore (Acoustic Demo) by The Mars Volta from the album: Unplugged


Miranda, That Ghost Just Isn’t Holy Anymore (Acoustic Demo) // The Mars Volta

This outfit is not sound proof…so don’t depend on memories.

With his arm


the Happy New Year


out of the picture

divorced from sleep

no more parties

or if so

please clarify by letter

on Wednesday


our contemporary Friday


quite out of it

during a friendly warming

Technicolor punch-drunk

holding tight to an old impulse


time is a word…used for good

even when you knew

it wasn’t


we concluded

with sundry things


now we know

just how fickle

the word gentle can be


I relate

change the ribbon


and self-inflict another day.

That postcard was the last sweet thing I sent your way(or anyone else’s)
Standing outside
breathing in
without a goal set
the kisses blown
without good thoughts
to cross a moan
and dot a sigh
so easy to feel
so hard to have just once
faithful to your sight
and the last air left for us to breathe
I miss every possibility
and wish
that last June would’ve lasted longer
in mirrors of climates
under branches of salt
softer words proceed
air conditioned
soft and white

Sedmikrásky (1966)

Sedmikrásky (1966)


Just got a new guitar…not having one was killing me. I got an amazing deal on a Stratocaster!…Sunburst…sexy as hell. Time to jamb.

Between the ocean
And your open vein
Leonard Cohen
I see monsters by Ryan Adams from the album: Love is hell, pt. 2


Ryan Adams, “I See Monsters”

Bliss/Gone/Please and thank you.


amorphous placeholder

during an argument

on the way out

or in

I forget

translucence forming

beneath the eyelids

delicate and mutely downward


then shrink away

rhetoric against feeling

street lights magnified

eyes finally open

brushing past

the staticky neighbors in the hall

Winter break

the wind in layers through the vent

numerically lost

tracing back the night’s opportunities

back to the G train

the diner

the argument

you said “I’m confused”

and that’s when it ended

you crossed the street with unimpeded motion

I hopped the train

trying to postpone resolution

enveloped in the serrated documentation

every sigh



glossy and uninstructed

muffled by mattress

and wrapped in faultlessness.

3am and I still can’t figure out how this light cord works.

I tried to get this giant moth

to fly into my apartment


I was stoned

it was not interested

now it’s 3am

and somehow it ended up getting in here

now I can’t sleep

I’m too stoned to read Dostoevsky

so AM radio it is…Coast To Coast.

When I look at small things, I think I shall go on living: drops of rain, leather gloves shrunk by being wet…When I look at something too big, I want to die: the Diet Building, or a map of the world…
Kōbō Abe, The Box Man (via odaro)