

Project Blue: untitled[Enter Asha]Project Blue: untitled
I hide behind statues, using Rembrandts for decoys; I cling to my weapon like a life-line. The ghosts of dead friends linger on the air, their spirits float like fresh pollutants, exhaust or miasma for the already intoxicated city dwellers. They remind me of what there is to lose the stink of corpses on summer nights like Armani cologne sinking into clothes and crevices. It makes me want to bathe. Eli puts two shells past me, close as lovers. I twist around the David replica and let fly my vicious retaliation
The day stood still. The sun seemed glued at noon was I holding the back the c


A magnetismKarmaA magnetism
These clouds are fleeing. vaporous exodus Children stumble in the rain as the lubricated walkways plot their trickeries Maybe Id have written more had the page not ended had that car not slid and crashed bearing the would-be mother of the messiah There is magic afloat Hovering like snowflakes
against a vertical breeze. I wept when the news arrived; this will end, like the rain did
When the clouds were caught and executed
Polarity
Joseph: The sun rests on the horizon, a firefly threatening


CorridorThere are no stars despite the absense of clouds; it's smog tonight, the most neutralCorridor
of weather that imprisons our mood on these dreary car rides into our industrial hearts,
our corporate imitation of the sky with buildings so tall with lights so bright that
the stars are eclipsed, turned secondary. Still I sit in this makeshift seat, sneakers tied to coat-racks at my side, dangling in their neglect, worn. I sit amongst a myriad of discarded jackets, abandoned ghostly clothing. They whisper to me inspiration. They tell me of their dreams of travel, their animalistic desire to run. So loudly I coul


January FoolsThe salt and pepper shakers await, Refilling But this room, these attributes Complement the simplicity I appreciate One day's tear uncried For all those who would rush to my side To hold on and say: I know.January Fools
They are months and a moment away Too busy and ahead of me. To look and see I need a companion here.
Shifting, Shifting The rat's expectations A return to his colony An aura-imbued inevitability His final vocabulary dehydrated Desert dry Too parched to decay.
Reminisce Those voices I miss And th
--
A rip tide is r a g i n g
And the life guard is away,
B u t t h e o c e a n d o e s n ' t w a n t m e t o d a y . . .
Previous Page123Next Page