hangman

Asininehiway

Gravity pulls at the strings, the heart, the hands.  
I walk against the iron core.

I tumble on the earth, as a stone.
Loosed again by some desire in nature.
Unknown to me

What weight is this? 
A warm coat made by her, fused and hardening; altered by my foreign skin.

Eyes move toward a sky, back down to my crumpled foundation.
A remembering of stance, stride, walk and dance.

 That heaven enters my frame, filling this form.  Belying my dis-belief
(the betrayer of earthly will)

Heaven

Wicked

EyesOnTheRoad

FireSon

ICS piece with wom Waitsian vocals, cello, dumbek, bad piano.
It's about politics.

Dumb Ideas

remake of a 2002 version of the same title

island in the water 
apex of something that exists mostly
out of view
under the sea

This fleck of earth is miniscule, isolated
deserted, lonely
ephemeral home 
to lost birds
unseen sunsets

Here I sit
contemplating a time 
when this place will not exist any longer
above the surface
forever lost

here for now
soaked by rains
nobody seemed to know were happening
softly, quietly
fading into nothing

(or will you sit here,
however faintly
keeping watch with me)


treydonovan