i am so tired of tediously
laying letterwork down
to build houses out of sound
and fury.
long crocheted lines of
desire and loss,
black-hearted bones, stacked like
lincoln logs.
glue and sandpaper reconstructions
of an ever-unfurling lanscape
of grey gestures and behaviors.

tracks mark my needle work,
sutures and bloodloss make mile-markers
of the architecture of pain and anger.

i create out of something:
what was once nothing,
continues to be nothing but words.

04/05/2012

Posted on 04/06/2012
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