erectlocution ⊇ boxing jewels

Archive for September 2004

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In Residue on 24 September 2004 with no comments

She holds out her hand,
Bravely,
Gently,
Doggedly,
Patiently.

She says, simply, “I need you,”
And leaves me the freedom to discover
My need for her.

In this very freedom
I find my need for her.

She wants only what I would give
Freely.

What I would give freely is
All of me.

kinetic not potential

In Residue on 23 September 2004 with no comments

I’ll disappoint.
I could indulge a long-winded, strained, flowery diction;
But it will come down to that:
I’ll disappoint.

What I want to give isn’t
What is wanted of me.

I’m wondering why I didn’t include in
My choices
Myself.

what aim

In Residue on 21 September 2004 with no comments

I’ve two blades preternaturally sharp.

One will go into her heart,

Or

Hers.

That choice will drive the other inevitably into

Mine.

rend

In Residue on 20 September 2004 with no comments

The man I was seven years ago is, topologically, the same man I was yesterday. I had bent and contorted his fabric so that he was quite distinguishable from his predecessor.

Today is a new day. I feel that some fundamental seam has been ripped, some joining of surfaces become disjointed. The roiling acid in my [...]

meat is murder is a slow kiss

In Residue on 18 September 2004 with 1 comment

How have we managed to wrap our nature so tightly in incongruity? I’ve come to decide that the human intelligence which separates us from other animals demeans us, lessens us. It’s Loki in all our heads, binding us with taunts and tricks. We are impotent, and hold fast that tether, afraid of [...]

verse three

In Residue on 16 September 2004 with 2 comments

She calls it innocent.
Innocence, we both know, is for nuns and prophets.
She’s neither.

She waits eagerly for the response,
Eyelids barely alighting upon epicanthic folds,
Lashes teasing, tickling.

Her chin stern,
Her lips in interrupted parting.
Her chest heaves with rhythmic sighs.

The keys transfer her purpose, what soul she can transmit
Into a world of her own making.
She leaves, dropping crumbs, not [...]

here be monsters

In Residue on 15 September 2004 with no comments

Black and white. It’s simple. Keep things highly contrasted, so you can tell this from that, right from wrong, pain from pleasure. It’s nice, sealed in plastic and waiting on the store shelves. The price, though, is pretty steep.

Still, if you look close enough, there’s very little that’s black or white. Peer at the grain [...]