Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Sea of Rage

His hunger never abides, and his fury consumes him. His own rage frightens him. He knows not what he might do or kill if he can't control it. It is, of course, a battle he cannot win.

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

See to Shining See

It takes a moment to find Calliope. Urgency predicates motion.

I stopped bringing the newspapers from the porch into the hallway. They remain unread regardless. In fact, I migrated the newspapers from the hallway back onto the porch. Manifest Destiny. I scatter them in the evening when I return from work, and I hear them stacked again in the mornings as I lay staring at the ceiling.

I recall mornings watching the stars die; of course, then I threw the newspapers back towards their Deliverer. Change doesn't change much.

Sometimes I think about reading as I lay my wearied bones to rest on salvation army couches. Beds abound up the stairs. Big, soft, expensive beds. I'm no longer comfortable with comfort. One day I'll trite someone to death.

The thought of reading does occur. I can't remember the last thing I read consciously. Words fill pages that scroll in accordance with the movements of my fingers. I absorb; I accept; I link. Changes little changing.

Closing the eyes is the hardest part. They don't like that. They resist. Then they flitter about, searching for occupation. Words are like food to them.

I'll feed my porch instead.

Monday, October 9, 2006

can't see my tale




These three words are, in and of themselves, relatively benign. But imagine if you said them slowly and surely, one after the other with a sense of urgency in your voice and a half-eaten growl in your throat. If you almost choked back a tear on the last one. If you left a baroque pause between the first and second while you lit a cigaratte and looked angled at the floor.

France has surrendered for less.