tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3794436.post-892740592003-02-17T17:30:00.000-08:002003-02-17T17:31:28.000-08:00The Artist Date that was Myopic <br /> <br />It all makes sense really <br />sound <br />picked up by the apparatus that is our ears <br />vibration, pitch, tone <br />like pulse, smooth, soft, and quick <br />there is an urge to simulate <br />riding the waves as they bounce of the space heater <br />there is an urge to ascend to the gods you are blowing <br />and then sink on the downbeat <br />there is beauty in all those things that are rough and scratch at the most sensitive parts of the self <br />myself <br />yourself <br />himself <br />and nonsense <br />it can be really, really, good <br />even when your legs are closed <br />and your chest has reached the highs of the note you never thought that golden piece of metal <br />could make <br />out <br />can we <br />make out what instigates the quickening of my pacemaker <br />the moistening <br />and leg shaker <br />he is beautiful too <br />and i want that to be enough <br />but it is not <br />yet <br />maybe tomorrow we will bury the cat <br />(2/11/03)trackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16201937022829037480noreply@blogger.com