Autobiography of a Totally Harmless Person

Without you, bathysphere, the silent world
will dive even farther and more bravely
from us. Without crew, museability
will take one final blow, sounds will dead-weight
a useless rap against every seafloor.

I did not cherish my way to the end
of the street, sweet tank. Carried no houses,
crossed streets vainly. I was riding a bus
and there was fatigue throughout the city.

And the dog I was dreaming never scared
of dirtytalk. She cowered to muck up
the pride we have at last torn from our selves.

Only steep in these leagues may I pilot
your steel subject. Only now everyone
in the photographs dead. Boy I buried

finally tame. No retractiles, no dark
so long unpatented. But that dog, she
goes so heavy with pause at water’s edge,
quieting her truest locomotive.

Didn’t I invent that? We know to dive,
not for tidal wave, not for subterrain,

but for making echo, knowing nothing
of each other’s loss. We dove. I knew you
and never knew you. Both happened. Both true.

Who it's for knows who it's for.

Buildings Fighting (and How They Learn)

Hello Mrs. Johnson
Hello Mr. Brown

I was in my house. I knew that. But I didn’t feel like I was inside anything.
—Raymond Carver


The Tune and Also the Words
I was in my city but I didn’t feel like I was inside anything.
I was walking through rain to other rain, ajar as any well-winded door.

That was the first word. When we were still getting prehistoric with each other.
Pith with a strand torn from scalp. Folded into your wallet in tiny effort of voodoo.
This is no longer sleeping around a lake-based square.
This is no longer any kind of hustle, so what is this?
The seeds out back may well have escaped.
Pumpkins pouring down the road near the driveway. Nasturtium ricketing all around the fenceline.

Riddle kin, take not your part in this disaster.
I want to smell different and remind people of new things based on smell alone.
I want to smell alone, reminding things of people when they were different.
I want different reminders, basing smells on people being alone.

Is it possible to know the weight of crushed bird hope?
I don’t believe in it. I don’t believe we had a first word.
The morning was swift and bruised, a vivid pillar.

Then I lost it.

"...here, then, is what is considered to be desire; desire known as a mobile void."


Goodbye Mrs. Johnson
Goodbye Mr. Brown

Who it's for knows who it's for.

The Prison We Choose To Dance Inside

Government by showbusiness... well, every authoritarian government understands this concept well.

Think of Hitler's great mass demonstrations when millions of people were whipped up into hysteria, or the enormous military parades of North Korea or the former Soviet Union, using beautiful children. dancing and preforming gymnastic routines; flowers, songs and signs..accompanied with threat and fear. The mass is compelled to participate for fear of being trampled, albeit idealistically, by the crowds.
Our terrifying rapidly developing technologies go hand in hand with the ever increasing psychological impact that this information distribution has upon this mass-mind of the state.
Sometimes this technology leads to unforeseen results. I have read accounts of how soldiers destined for the front lines are routinely, systematically desensitized by deliberately exposing them to brutality in such a way that they lose the capacity to recognize any trace of humanity in the people that they have to interrogate [currently in some cases torture], attack, and kill.

This is a controlled and skilled process where their controllers are trained to know the exact methods to carry out such desensitization without their active knowledge of doing so.

Under the guise of normalized training regimen the soldiers immediate superviser exercises what is believed to be the necessary desensitization rtequired to survive -safely- under such circumstances.

This methodology has been proven false scientifically; and has shown to, in the long run, cause greater danger, and propensity for greater casualities among soldiers.
-from the golden notebooks (of prisons)

"Reflections" by the Supremes Was My Mothers Favorite Song

Amalgam of Being

An amalgam is any mixture or blending of mercury with another metal or with an alloy. Most metals are soluble in mercury, but some (such as iron) are not. Amalgams are commonly used in dental fillings.

[photos censored to abide by photobucket's puritanical fanaticism; gore = passable, human body = pornography]

Sleep; Puissant Cousin of Death

You carry your memories like a sack of old stones
Though some are lighter than air
Sleep is the place where the bones can rest
Unless the world follows you there