Monday, April 8, 2013

Insomnia -- observations



infused with a heady mix of adrenalin and caffeine.

if seen from a distance the landscape seems to waver

daily events cup reality and unreality like a mirage

Is this a real thing

Is this a not real thing

The young woman sitting in front of me wears a loosely knit black sweater 

a hint of silver thread like Christmas tinsel woven with the yarn 

Her tanned shoulders exposed, 

epaulettes 

In negative space.









Monday, April 1, 2013

Gertrude Stein is not a man walking into a bar

A man walks into a bar.

But it's not a bar.

It's a jail.

Or a church.

I forget

A library

maybe.

A man walks into

a jail.

Not a bar.

A man walks into a church.

Or a school.

Not a bar.

A man walks,

not into a bar.

A man walks.

A man walks into something.

It's a hole.

It's an ocean.

Or a hole

Or a hole in the ocean.

I don't remember.

It doesn't matter.

I don't think it really matters.

A man walks into a bar.

Only

It's not a bar.