Tag Archives: dry

sex with me… sex with me… sex with me…

the drive
six-dollar garbage
L. A.
Micah’s little lab
dropping by Federal
sunset cruise to Santa Monica
sir, this is valet only
the motel, Steve, Thai curry, the cockroach

Vator Splash
walk for oil
chillin w Tram
goodbye Santa Monica
bang

sunrise to LAX
the literati
trader joes shopping
shower?
gal palace
aerienne’s curry
rise of the jack o lanterns
staples center
the pantry
sex with me, sex with me
film shoot
martinis at Clifton

sweating, parking
Meryl the blonde tart
Clara the effortlessly beautiful
Travis the sexy handyman
back at the chicken shack
raw silk
maximum laughter, minimal consequence
scene queen
80s club (wreck 86?) speakeasy
overpass popup
gig rig piss
spurned the hip hop breeze
hot dog, malt liquor, blow

shit
ramen
dishes
video chat w love
shower
high as fuck w Fitzcarraldo

~rain~

piece of shit
part one of Anna Karenina
the Ivy
over the garden wall
finished Fitzcarraldo

fragment of shit
cacao coffee
shower
barneys beanery
smokin
little dieter needs to fly

bagels n coffee
work, work
laundry out
car wash
seat belt ticket
laundry home
yoga nap
chicken kebab election
1642
bye aerienne

moving the car asleep
cafe 50s
el matador
shower and jojoba
long lyft
a novel Thai feast
funkmosphere
double double rye, straight
bye Meryl
bye Virgil
hello j
from sleep

early morning car move again
waiting for the call
toilet call
pack fast and peace
selected ambient drive
mcds
peter gabriel
fresh fruit
bridge
SF
surprise! Continue reading

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the Valley of Ladies

hot
dry, gusty air.
brush, skeletal, withering to dust—
devils spinning psychotically
in circles
in the distance
a circus
performed for the pleasure of the beaming king
in the sky, radiant and divine
splintering crowns of clouds
charring the earth
boiling brains.

and then
there is coolness, serene spaciousness
in slow-motion assembling constellations,
awakening, loving, being…
but being where?
here, nowhere, everywhere—constellations
awakening again
and again
and again
and again
as in a dance
until suddenly there is spinning,
a rhythmic repeating,
eternal becoming.

though wandering the desert sometimes stings like Hades,
other days you’re waltzing in the Valley of Ladies. Continue reading

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breath of the universe

with a breeze at your back—
and the sun setting—
this hot, desolate dryness
seems bearable.
you can almost see yourself
descending
water-laden
into the Great Basin
full of fascination, bewilderment,
life. through
the viscous transparent waves
emanating from everything
at a distance
you can almost see yourself
escaping, recovering
what once was lost.
yourself
is always seen
by infinite eyes peering
out of rocks and soil and sky and rain
because
everyone enjoys a good look in the mirror.
and at this wild desert masquerade
you climb
and climb
heaving, huffing
the desert dunes
until you reach the top, where you sigh
a breeze. Continue reading

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