What’s good vs. what’s good?
All the checkmarks in all the columns
Everything that is right about an onion
Choosing a two-way arrow to connect the clearest concepts
Meanwhile, a grab bag of aphorisms posing as a viewpoint or a conversation or a country
Or a collection of screenshots standing in for an experience you’ll always remember
Mostly, admittedly, candidly, and curt
That’s the thing about an echo
Or a period
Or an internal investigation into a matter of finances
It’s the number 1 more often than you’d think
It’s the presence of just the right number of coincidences
You can build it up from the classics or break it down from the sky
There are stars and there are seeds but we step back and they are just one thing
The stretches of space are the loneliest
Fare thee well, friends
August 26, 2020
August 19, 2020
All the Things That Lean
You look around and you don’t have it quite right
You don’t think
A glass of wine but a pint of beer
Just the right framing with great lighting
But marks and means and more
Mooring I mean
And you say circles. See circles?
Cantilever comes to mind
And better times with any number of better things
I can tell you about the Money Money Bar in Chiang Mai and the plate of chicken that melted Margaret’s face off
Or a crab shack on the water with all of our friends
Or sitting in the backyard with folks rain or shine or both in one day
But the forest probably smells the best it has in 50 years — maybe more
You don’t think
A glass of wine but a pint of beer
Just the right framing with great lighting
But marks and means and more
Mooring I mean
And you say circles. See circles?
Cantilever comes to mind
And better times with any number of better things
I can tell you about the Money Money Bar in Chiang Mai and the plate of chicken that melted Margaret’s face off
Or a crab shack on the water with all of our friends
Or sitting in the backyard with folks rain or shine or both in one day
But the forest probably smells the best it has in 50 years — maybe more
August 18, 2020
No No Rave Gave Up
The unburnt the unbecoming
Once where fuel began
Or look up how limestone happened and think of just how much that was out there happening
Listen, every argument has its kinks
Every country its kids
Every coat its closures
Every base putting it all together the best it can because it believes
How do you believe at this point?
One foot in front of the other?
The right-sized bowl for every goldfish?
We don’t have to get it all to get somewhere
Let’s go
I’d end with “let’s go” every time if I could get away with it
Once where fuel began
Or look up how limestone happened and think of just how much that was out there happening
Listen, every argument has its kinks
Every country its kids
Every coat its closures
Every base putting it all together the best it can because it believes
How do you believe at this point?
One foot in front of the other?
The right-sized bowl for every goldfish?
We don’t have to get it all to get somewhere
Let’s go
I’d end with “let’s go” every time if I could get away with it
Sketch for Portrait of Shadows in the Golden Hour
Innumerable things are not my cup of tea,
There are, there are
Staging left and right as boulevards shudder
I will not, as I’m looking
That I am, that I will, as I’m looking
Clouds over head, cups of coffee, still, as I am
The days of the week, they conspire
But it all started with a break in the middle, they tell me
Satchels full of assumption about you, about me
Are they even scales if they are lopsided?
This world you live in and everyone it was made for
Twisted like that, like these days you make it through
You’re told to think of a number, but you head is filled with swimming tests
I’m told to take a minute, and everything is suddenly golden
We are assaulted by counterfeits, you and I
We are doing our best
What do all their metaphors about Rome even matter
Streets are sinking all around us and they want to talk perspective
Keep a go-bag at hand, we’ll leave after sundown someday
There are, there are
Staging left and right as boulevards shudder
I will not, as I’m looking
That I am, that I will, as I’m looking
Clouds over head, cups of coffee, still, as I am
The days of the week, they conspire
But it all started with a break in the middle, they tell me
Satchels full of assumption about you, about me
Are they even scales if they are lopsided?
This world you live in and everyone it was made for
Twisted like that, like these days you make it through
You’re told to think of a number, but you head is filled with swimming tests
I’m told to take a minute, and everything is suddenly golden
We are assaulted by counterfeits, you and I
We are doing our best
What do all their metaphors about Rome even matter
Streets are sinking all around us and they want to talk perspective
Keep a go-bag at hand, we’ll leave after sundown someday
August 15, 2020
I Don’t Know When I Don’t Know Why
We all start somewhere
Around the world, outside your door
There’s a rash of indoor planting
Indoor playing, indoor connecting, and so on
I don’t know when because what is time now
I don’t know why because, still, what is time now
Speed can be an equation and can be part of this
Equations can be functions and might be part of this
But if we start joining reasons and seasons then I’ll show you this is dangerous
Like speakers saying books are dangerous
And videos vis à vis radio stars
Phones before them, the internet after, and phones again after that
This soapbox was made with a phone
And so fishbowls, dynamite, the price of tea in China, rain again or sunsets
Around the world, outside your door
There’s a rash of indoor planting
Indoor playing, indoor connecting, and so on
I don’t know when because what is time now
I don’t know why because, still, what is time now
Speed can be an equation and can be part of this
Equations can be functions and might be part of this
But if we start joining reasons and seasons then I’ll show you this is dangerous
Like speakers saying books are dangerous
And videos vis à vis radio stars
Phones before them, the internet after, and phones again after that
This soapbox was made with a phone
And so fishbowls, dynamite, the price of tea in China, rain again or sunsets
August 13, 2020
Day Many Lost
Kinder quartered coughing
Chameleon kindred finding blenders
Anything to save the salt or save on salt — I can’t quite recall
Anything to sit with rolling clouds, scattered sunsets, and golden hour after hour
By the water, by the woods, but we’ll take what we can get
And always will
Want me to string something out for you?
Sing a chorus of basement salamanders
Chameleon kindred finding blenders
Anything to save the salt or save on salt — I can’t quite recall
Anything to sit with rolling clouds, scattered sunsets, and golden hour after hour
By the water, by the woods, but we’ll take what we can get
And always will
Want me to string something out for you?
Sing a chorus of basement salamanders
August 12, 2020
Can’t Hurt, Won’t Hurt
Full of fists closed over fists
Quantified waves when we need them and when we don’t
We let out our length
We keep it there
And there and there
They’re gonna come for us
They are and always have been
But we are and always have been, too
I mean, the world has ways and so do you
And from corner to corner there’ll be collecting
Then unexpected explosions, then flash floods, then algae bloom after bloom after bloom
You’ve got so many fonts at your fingertips but so many fewer feelings
There’s a camera
Quantified waves when we need them and when we don’t
We let out our length
We keep it there
And there and there
They’re gonna come for us
They are and always have been
But we are and always have been, too
I mean, the world has ways and so do you
And from corner to corner there’ll be collecting
Then unexpected explosions, then flash floods, then algae bloom after bloom after bloom
You’ve got so many fonts at your fingertips but so many fewer feelings
There’s a camera
August 11, 2020
Wootchoo / Woot Hop
The thing is caramel
The thing is time
The thing is disruption, distraction, and distortion
I mean birds in Virginia, backup singers, and bad choices
Because someone invented musical roads
And there’s a house somewhere with two Albrights in it
These things can make sense
Like an unexpected complement of succulents on an otherwise ordinary day
Fuck. That. Guy.
The thing is time
The thing is disruption, distraction, and distortion
I mean birds in Virginia, backup singers, and bad choices
Because someone invented musical roads
And there’s a house somewhere with two Albrights in it
These things can make sense
Like an unexpected complement of succulents on an otherwise ordinary day
Fuck. That. Guy.
August 8, 2020
Earthful
The felled over long-ass days all Summer
One life smears into the next
Too many stories and too many styles
Every song a siren’s song
This wheel, that beachcomber bonfire
This jacquard became the center of our lives
That switch became another became another and now we’re driving places after sundown
When gains are twinned with memories
When your sense of self subtracts time
When gravity
When back-lighting
When dilation
When deference
Smoke rises into the night somewhere
Let’s count
One life smears into the next
Too many stories and too many styles
Every song a siren’s song
This wheel, that beachcomber bonfire
This jacquard became the center of our lives
That switch became another became another and now we’re driving places after sundown
When gains are twinned with memories
When your sense of self subtracts time
When gravity
When back-lighting
When dilation
When deference
Smoke rises into the night somewhere
Let’s count
August 3, 2020
Wares, Err, Mod, Five
Everybody comes to me
A fish with a suitcase
Your fourth grade teacher
And the other one, too
The castle walls are prickly with vines
We tell stories in the evening
We’ve had our supper
We are still Americans
What’s left is relative
Pile pliable materials for pickup
Remembering those small fridges
Small ice trays for small ice
We’ve got what we got after we get it
Amber and then asphalt and still time
A fish with a suitcase
Your fourth grade teacher
And the other one, too
The castle walls are prickly with vines
We tell stories in the evening
We’ve had our supper
We are still Americans
What’s left is relative
Pile pliable materials for pickup
Remembering those small fridges
Small ice trays for small ice
We’ve got what we got after we get it
Amber and then asphalt and still time
Location:US-6,Eastham,United States
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