big bang

after everyone died along with her
after all caved in in the end
the year turned inside again
and the light withdrew

into here

into this warm core of
passion where you and I
have been creating a new
universe for everyone to live in

dreamtime

 

as I drive aimlessly

along the late october coast

under a dreamtime sky,

I finally see that

there are three ways
to settle this:

let her go

- but she just won’t.

so fuck myself and drown her with me –

look love, I drive hands-free at 110 mph!

accept her

and live among ghosts forever.

give myself

to you.

the choice is easy. I won’t drive over the cliff.
take my hand.

close quarters

no, I have not forgotten

nor am I forgetting,

but she lives in dreamtime now -

too far away for a phone call.

as for me, I've found shelter from the cold,

and as I ponder all my

impossible pasts
and possible futures,

I mostly hope I will live
a little longer.

this is what you become
when you've lived at close quarters with death

outono peruano

o ar é de ardósia
coberta de giz
que escorre
traçados cris de calor
neste terrário hermético
onde brotam orquídeas carnudas
e um vaporoso cio
no substrato do nosso
amor
perfeito

love & hope

all conveivable tomorrows
burn their bright spears
into right now right here

how to disentangle
love and hopes?

movement

I write prologues no longer,
but epilogues to grapes and tides

and honk the horn as I drive
across the horizon of the day after

driving

here you are, in my car

so perfectly yourself

so perfectly you

so perfectly

next to me at the wheel,

where I overlap her ghost

and have become

perfectly she.

freedom is indeed

a concise ache for it implies

nothingness & free fall,

driving with no brakes

through the black hole in the

sunset-bleed sky

into the darkening ocean.

I roam the world

over the cliff