my god... i am so insanely tired tonight it's not even funny. Quite why i'm not sure, to be honest - but getting into work at 5:55am likely had something to do with it... and perhaps the steroids i'm on, which should rid me of the creeping death. last night they made my back and legs hurt like a royal bastard, and today they apparently chose to instead slam me with a lightning-hot headache. While that's now departed, thankfully, i'm interested to see what's in store for me tomorrow, hehe. I've been making headway at work regardless, though, and getting in a few extra hours to boot. I can use those, then, to make up for the time i'll be spending out of the office for a week starting October 6th.

For the life of me i can't even seem to fucking remember why i'm even taking the time off in the first place. I must be out of it! or just in an extreme case of denial, hehe.

But dig it, i finished a piece i've been working on intermittently the past few days. This one in particular is a little out there, and to be true i'm not even sure what the fuck i meant to capture with it in the first place. I can make a few conjectures, but i started with an awfully rough draft from last week and tonight let the flow polish it up as it saw fit. Here's the result, for better or worse (I think i've written better, by far, but i half felt guilty moving onto another and leaving this one unfinished. For what it's worth, here she be).

I'm so going to bed, reader. I hope you sleep well tonight and have the sweetest of dreams, and we shall speak soon.

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whence it came who knows

9/22/04

I was there
held fast beneath what someday becomes
for everyone a single fading dimlight
beautifully tethered to an ancient
ceiling by a rotting cord
in the middle of a room vacant;
a greasy yellow pendant
illuminating the smoke
as it drifts from my right hand, slack
the moment as real as this glass I clench, rigid and wet
dull as my wit tonight
cheap as a dollar-store piñata
all utterly harmless
but all a bit scary

sit at the table a few moments longer
we all do, we all will
and see cold unconscious force
blend with the restraint of the meek
below this tiny yellow bulb -
to this construction-paper specter raise
an illuminated glass
that reflects your passion
in an everyday ghost, like kindergarten art:
animals complete with cheerful barnyard smiles
and brass fasteners for joints
the little sharp ones that rip
through heavy colored stock
when teased

such fancies are never static
in that forgotten pub
the one we visit in those dimlit moments
where late-night, whiskey-fired inspiration
never lays rest to dreams;
they’re captured
live on location as it unfolds
as lives flex and change like the stars
once orion now the southern cross

so lash out, courageously seize the glass
savor the last and thrust it down
(the heavy table will only voice a modest complaint)
turn around now quickly compel your
chair to scream across the floor

and behind you find only the dusty paneled wall
of this shithole bar
to dance with you tonight
in this place that silences all
where echoes come to die
and our tiny dreams are forgotten
until we end