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Shakespeare's Monkeys

Infinite Monkeys. Infinite Typewriters.

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For the Sake of Sounding

I shed my clothes.
Free of the strings
that tangle me to the tide.
I stand,
rooted as the pines,
reckoned to charred
stillness.

There is no rain today.

No rain,
No wind,
Nothing
to calm this raging skin.
Even the rivers
have renounced their
translation.

I kneel,
amongst the silt.
Once yeilding comfort,
now nothing more
than muted
debris.
Unsettled in these
restsraints

I throw stones,
for the sake of sounding.

 

 

 

*
But April brought rain
» The language of leaving
» The last place I looked
» Dirty laundry is easier to swallow with Chardonnay
» I loved you again after coffee
» absence is persistent
» In passing
» Spring just brings longer days
» The duty of roses
» reaching for a place to pivot
» The art of making mountains
*
May 2007
» Exploits of Adoration
» Untitled
*
The chopping block These are still rough, suggestions welcome
*
Hopefully Apathetic
» explaining nostalgia
» to make healing more bearable
» of orange blossoms and death
» For the Sake of Sounding
» Hunger tastes of honey
» a lesson in chemistry
» An accumulation of cinnamon
*
Sometimes...it just is
» because i can't make an omelet
» Speaking for things unspoken
» Explaining displacement
» because there are no answers
» missing the point
» clarity
» Her
» because he asked what i was thinking
» silence comes unsuited
» of obsidian, twilight, and june
» the slowness of death
» Inversion
*
Title-less A place for rantings, news, tid-bits, but mostly drooling and staring into space.
» because today feels random

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