what you were you were without adornment and adornment was nothing without you

when you left, you left your belongings behind. i thought you had forgotten them and gathered them up to return to you. there were drawings and jewelry and clothes and papers. what was missing was you. that's when i realized these things, all this stuff, had no meaning without you. i left messages for you that you would never return. you go where you go and you take yourself with you. you would never return for your stuff. and without you it has no meaning, it can only be given away to someone in need. and we are left needing you. and i am left without you. and i miss you.

talk show generics -iii

The association in her case was not transparent. If she introduced the darkness to light, they might achieve net neutrality and no one would have to pay. She would funnel all the nonsense down the pipes built expressly for that purpose, and run the drainage of his company into a far corner of the yard where nothing ever grew, she thought. Then reproduce the unkempt sound by some peripheral brilliance, and follow a stream into its relentless river, with side effects of curling back and slowing down. She saw herself surfing a wave and tumbling down, again and again until she got it right. The sharks would circle, yes, but she had chum to feed them. Some day she promised herself an escape from undertow, the gravity above all.

talk show generics -ii

He was demure in between binges. She was the polliwog in his flying fish fry, hiding under the curtain in the fringes. They were mutuals who secretly willed a corruption, playing hide-n-seek in a hobby lobby of manipulations. She got busy with telemarketers on the home line, keeping them guessing in a cold steep run up of daytime, followed by the evening news, the blackouts and hysterics. The whole enchilada was ready made for talk show generics. Not her. People like her.

talk show generics

She held the boundary for as long as she could and then caved. Her eight year long fascination with him subsided into a temperate love affair punctuated by flurries of drunken fists. This was a special kind of music few could hear, a subculture where the despotic meet those who prefer to be ruled. She had run out of furniture to blame on another blackened eye.

effacing the place

Such a prodigious commentary rolled out of a disconnected narrative. All the ghosts of old mama Bell had to glom together as operators, pulling and pushing their wires into that old electronic wall. All the calls incoming got patched through, and where hello meets goodbye, a patch could efface the English language, in any such redirection, the power of the women at the wall, operators, any which way. And blue came across the neurons and fired them off like static and clung to the statement preceding. Contradictions were contradicted and life would go on this way through the world wars, and endless series of splicing and bringing people together through a wire. Afflicted with afflictions, some operators were, and found peace only after the in betweens of their shifts and smoke long breaks twirled away. Nobody always knew nothing could turn into something when a push met a pull and were patched away from blue to gray. There were often a few kids meanwhile caught like in spiderwebs, tied up in an apron by a hem.

'operators at the hem' by K

spider.plastic

i have become quite accustomed to the comfort of being very non-celeb in the non-profit world in which i live. you can even say i profit by it.

spider.plastic

complicate me

i went all out after i passed my boards today, pushed into third gear like a demon around rush hour, cut ahead of that old man's ford and made three randy's and a lucy into the drive through lane of the local starbux for a venti iced almond milk maple pecan latté with whipped cream scenario. i sure know how to complicate an easy thing. but goddam! there's gotta be more to life than your daily mister coffee iv drip to rocket you outta your slippers