zensolo’s e-mailed chronicles posted by morituri.


without comments

some days, some days i open up to absolute contingency & eat th bear of nothing but death to look forward to…

some days, some nights i slink back, shrink down- retreat & backslide into barely conscious kiddie fear waking

up only as i walk into th cold gust of it-th fear, th acceptance, th cramped grid of city buildings tottering

above… no quiet coffee chatter on th radio competing w/ live humans impatient for their double latte another

day, another neofolkie songstress hooking into my ghostly desires my bones nothing but brittle, hollow flutes

fail to keep my skin in place or attached- i may believe i am free again after i finish my hour on this

ill-defined job of reaching & reaching out to receding mirrors of subjectivity never quite flesh out into

being… another quirk, another recognisable illusion crumbling for th sake of authentic cutural dreams

& you think/that love is only/for th lucky or th strong…

Written by morituri

December 18th, 1999 at 5:06 am

Posted in Uncategorized

.:wanderlustmedia+dot+org:. is Digg proof thanks to caching by WP Super Cache