Art, poetry, digital art, photography, criticism and essays.

11 Feb 2008

on the loss of a dear draft...

the ocean sleeps in a perspective coloured glass house
tide /wandering /overflowing inside birds eyes

the sleeping concierge of of light neaps around melodic lives /healed /
fragmenting masks/
giving free traffic to our posted eyes /of lives

we - like brine figures gaping at /dans la fenetre of the camera
dance dance dance like tide
dance /honey

on the other side of the world he lives among pressed /shapeless wolves
i can see him through window corners /through flesh fragmenting masks/

my trances / sparkle wasteful frenetic flesh

i butter your camera with new glass figurines in culture brine
implanted sweetness /liquid wolves turn your stars into wounded illuminance

guitars groan contrapunctally
the letter trances of my fiscal eye

waiting for lights



  • At 2:40 pm , Blogger crescent said...

    endless minimising of fragments is the joint of breath the snap of touch the push and shove fabrics' woven eyes, knees immersion

  • At 7:24 pm , Blogger carmen said...

    he he he, nice words , simon, very nice words...


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