in the works

we see the world age with the evidence so widely presented
wrapped in the leaves that fall into mountains at our feet
shape opinions to handmade mosaics to describe such phenomena
we’d figure things out if not for our margins of error

this music box winds in the backs of our throats as the sun sits beside us
ballet on the countertop amuses us all for a little while
the picture shows captivate our idle hands stretched towards distractions
the horrors portrayed reassure us their lives are okay

your fingers are itching to feel such incredible desires
they’ve woven thousands of notes suspended blindly on currents
you hope for the threads to solicit that girl back in dreamland
she may never see them but they’ll trap her in times of distress

miss the boat miss the memo miss the moments remembered so clearly
miss the train miss the point miss the things we intended to say
play telephone with heartstrings we tie to the end of a tin can
afraid to enunciate the words that depict the destination

I'm on a rool

or something.

that psychic vampires list I talk about

if i thought it’d feed your heart and not your head i’d say you’re wonderful
I thought you might be wonderful if not for your pretenses
an eloquent delilah so fastidious to please the men
we could get along if i respected your decisions

I’m trying hard to be your friend, I’m trying really hard to be your friend
But my patience will run out the door screaming for relief
when I tire of pretending I enjoy your company

don’t have to say you’re sorry cause it’s not your fault at all
don’t have to say you’re sorry cause you cannot help yourself
your unfaltering mentality of a damsel in distress
I just cannot sympathize when I’m shaking my head

frast is not a word

How much distance can I leave between us on half-lived attempts to get closer
don’t ask for explanation the time it would take would detract from the point
I read in the paper someone I knew was murdered it’s ugly all so ugly
I look at my car in the driveway and wonder how far away it would take me

If the world looked much more like 1983 would you love me, would I love you too
Cause the walls this year get greyer each morning I drain them of color just like I did you
When you go on and get a lot older tomorrow I'll tell you again
stop calling me back and I'll stop calling you the one that got away

our wavelengths communicate intricately like a music box winding
we're supposed to discuss the whale in the bathtub but never do anything
I guess it takes beautiful pictures to show you the time that has passed
cracks in foundations are planning ascension to something that matters

the crickets are rubbing their ankles together to pass the time
going through the motions just like me when I lie and I say I'm just fine
oh why are we talking around what we’re wanting to say
why aren’t we talking about all of the moments that will never be the same

made something today

it looks like this


now for a shower and a cuddle with babby, perhaps.

gadgets...

...are among us. I used to have this habit with people I no longer have contact with; an explanation would be too long to bring merit to anything in comparison to the length of time you'd leave shaking your head at me. I can't help it though; it's just in my nature to do so.

There are so many words that rhyme.
There are not so many words that rhyme with pavement.

ran out of f's

string, paint blobs, trees.



boredom ceases to exist with craft supplies and interweb radio

test your cat breed knowledge

word swappage explanations needed, here you are. a few old ones from the note-book.

a very very very late unbirthdaymasyears

of sorts. The Story of the Cat and the Horse. Look, dad, I really can write children's stories with apologetic undertones!

if the bottle fits, inhabit it

making a mountain from a molehill, I'm sure.