tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22306105180038323392024-02-20T01:47:32.219-08:00Tim Hortonpop music - aesthetics - short fiction - poetry - no donutsTimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12978720584556097753noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2230610518003832339.post-15330534813659387682008-01-10T03:30:00.000-08:002008-01-17T04:27:48.432-08:00Today<strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">You be the thickness of my life</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">styled black cord</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">the warm evening of summer wind, coiling</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">wrapped round and through the air in an outward-looking room</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">windowed</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">blood hanging out of veins</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">sitting, suspended along the listening of one album</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">thick in the air,</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">thick in thought and expanding into alveolar holes</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">a thought</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">a series of thoughts, interwoven with a thickness of feeling</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">and the shock of the repeated new</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">with an each of all before returning,</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">blood</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">matter formed fresh in the mat of past experience.</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">You are running out and running through,</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">expending precious time and precious resource, as a </span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">laboratory experiment that never actually gets the hypothesis,</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">and a new, or a never new recalling,</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">till my life,</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">shaped,</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">runs a</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">rings with this echo, sadly receding,</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">or pulsing like half-forgotten blood.</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">I, too</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">I have the shape</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">I am timed out</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">and timing</span></strong>Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12978720584556097753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2230610518003832339.post-46018440959832934182008-01-10T03:24:00.000-08:002008-01-10T03:28:28.222-08:008Oh ashen, greyed light<br />and oh the light that is not dimmed,<br />like reflected from some great metal dish interposed<br />between me<br />and the sky<br />siding down across the sky<br />and scraping down, like metal along against the side of wet bricked walls<br />come sliding down and risking itself against the rough wall<br /><br />one hope, and one sky, towards the upheld metal grey dome, I would would this jump up, or be one jump up, first, against the sky, up to the sky<br />towards the sky, feeling and freeing free the grey uprushing wind or the air brushing against my sides, up past the twitting noisy miner juvenile, and up past<br />Indian mynah brown and twirling in the air<br />or would could, probable,<br />and one bent-kneed deferring ready jump, tendons poised, with those birds<br />yellow feeted, ready against them,<br />ready to them, in the image of their bent kneed flight,<br />yellow footed and spur heeled<br />taken one giant leap, had been,<br />and floated if perhapsingly up toward windwardly windingly up into tumbled downd clouds that thick themselves round towards the<br />towards the<br />under round and spun.Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12978720584556097753noreply@blogger.com0