Saturday 24 March 2018

arizona hymnal

I am 34 years old. At this point of my life I have had 4 teeth removed. Ignoring the termites we point further over the horizon. This is significantly less than my father. He also has less hair but we don’t talk about that. They are also teeth from the back so although my teeth are somewhat crooked at the front there are none visibly missing. I keep pointing to the point of awkwardness to emphasise the distance. Which is good.

silence
an actor moves
into infinity

Early afternoon finds my head full of flies - not where the teeth were but in my sinuses. Fingers move from F, to B minor to A minor. I want to be a military march - like the three four time of some Irish Louisianan Civil war troop fighting just for money. To be the song plus one and now the dna is stale jam on brown bread. The blue bottle forgets the season and buys time shares on some moon off some planet or other - way past our pointing. Phone scams are not real but big foot is. Kinda.

ripe blackberry
a songbird shits away 
summer

In a new font he downloaded last week Jesus types: God’s kiss. The more he thinks about it the more he feels the font is wrong for the message. He goes to the bathroom and soaks a washcloth in cold water. He opens the window and hears the birds in the trees outside. He thinks of signing his name on the bathroom wall. He feels in his robe pocket and finds a rumpled piece of paper he pulls it out and finds an old bus ticket - he throws it in the toilet. He thinks about a meteor. 

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