papers/lighter/text

crumbled and rolled

the silver jews blues 09/09/2010

Filed under: readable — paperslightertext @ 1:05 am

falling in love? not sure if i believe in that.

which stock character do i play
in this role playing game starter town?
the doe-eyed ingenue. though i favor those who won’t baby me
if God were a novelist i’d pray he guide me safely
engineer my happiness, into someone’s arms
out of the valley of darkness, amen.

would he forgive my slightest sin? that minor seventh?
commandment slightly bent, not broken- its name not spoken-

it sickens me to be stricken so publicly
yet i can hardly put down my pen
my heart is racing and the lines unfold before me
like lanes into the horizon, power lines and cacti
on the dusty highway strip.

perhaps life is like writing a song is like falling in love. it evaporates like a dream upon waking. my only experience of falling in love has been like that- murky, ephemeral- something brief and imagined that happens in the moments before reality sets in.

i wanted to write you a song, but i think now i would have to write you a whole album in anticipation of the things i’d dreamed up. let’s not get carried away now, self.

“i have not avoided certainty. it has always just eluded me. i wish i knew, i wish i knew for sure.” – d. berman

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yes, smartass, i am bringing grunge back.

Filed under: readable — paperslightertext @ 12:44 am

remember that time at saya
you said you had
an abundance of absence

no one says “just adulting”
borf said.
we have contrasting lives.

remember that time at mi jalapeno
i declared myself a friend millionaire,
the proverbial candy store kid

you can’t have absence
or can you?
can you have it like cancer
or was that an abcess?

this is my magnum opus
a scribble on a crumpled receipt
a rainbow on an oil slick,
iridescent and symptomatic.

 

an amaretto sour

Filed under: readable — paperslightertext @ 12:03 am

cradle it in your palm there
in the balmy night air
at the top of the spiral stair
where you hesitate

liquor like liquid candy
fizzy and tart in an old fashioned
classic glass, like i think we are

only i daren’t go there,
i mustn’t lust, see
(though it electrifies me.)

you’d have to scale this wall
i’d be rapunzel, all enthralled
that you could muster the gall
to read my poetry.