pretty

I leave the pretty women for men with no imagination, find me a man who can caress my wounds and join the dots with my scars.

to lose yourself

Its the greatest hazard of all, losing one's self. This can occur very quietly in the world, as if it were nothing at all. No other loss can occur so quietly. any other loss like money, an arm, leg, a husband, etc- is sure to be noticed.

“We are in this life to enlarge the soul, liberate the spirit, and light up the brain.” – Tom Robbins

"Are You Ready for New Urban Fragrances?


Yeah, I guess I’m ready, but listen:

Perfume is a disguise. Since the middle ages, we have worn masks of fruit and flowers in order to conceal from ourselves the meaty essence of our humanity. We appreciate the sexual attractant of the rose, the ripeness of the orange, more than we honor our own ripe carnality.

Now today we want to perfume our cities, as well; to replace their stinging fumes of disturbed fossils’ sleep with the scent of gardens and orchards. Yet, humans are not bees any more than they are blossoms. If we must pull an olfactory hood over our urban environment, let it be of a different nature.

I want to travel on a train that smells like snowflakes.

I want to sip in cafes that smell like comets.

Under the pressure of my step, I want the streets to emit the precise odor of a diamond necklace.

I want the newspapers I read to smell like the violins left in pawnshops by weeping hobos on Christmas Eve.

I want to carry luggage that reeks of the neurons in Einstein’s brain.

I want a city’s gases to smell like the golden belly hairs of the gods.

And when I gaze at a televised picture of the moon, I want to detect, from a distance of 239,000 miles, the aroma of fresh mozzarella.”

- Wild Ducks Flying Backward

From below, as a Neighbor

If I were not me and overheard me from below, as a neighbor, talking to him, I would say to myself how glad I was not to be her, not to be sounding the way she is sounding, with a voice like her voice and an opinion like her opinion. But I cannot hear myself from below, as a neighbor, I cannot hear how I ought not to sound, I cannot be glad I am not her, as I would be if I could hear her. Then again, since I am her, I am not sorry to be here, up above, where I cannot hear her as a neighbor, where I cannot say to myself, as I would have to from below,  how glad I am not to be her. 

when...

When I haven’t been kissed

in a long time, I create civil disturbances,


then insult the cops who show up,

till one of them grabs me 
and hurls me up against the wall

just so I can remember, 

at least for a moment,


what it’s like to be touched.

for you

 I rest in reason and move in passion. for you I would write a million love letters every day. for you I'd scar and without you everywhere I go is another place with out you. without you somedays I look out the window and wonder what doesn't feel so right.

you ask what you mean to me

you my love are the cigar after a steak meal. A toxic addiction.