amStrand hebdo: bottom trawler?
Wednesday th 27, 01.1999 (23h38) ich bin wieder am strand… back on th beach, d regreso en la playa (plus ou moins-) everytime I run past th rolling pasture by th abandoned dairy farm I’m reminded of @ least a couple of th projects that I’m holding onto hard enough to keep me from living life in th vague, seemingly aimless present…
(Saturday th 28, 09.1996 (chère nathalie-)
what does it take to calm yr fears
to make you feel comfortable enough
to let me talk you into allowing me
to breathe deep th foggy fumes
dripping sour from yr darkest willows?
what does it take to allay yr anxieties
soothe yr suspicions unearn yr mistrust
provide th secure cradling refuge
where you might wind down to laugh
when I compliment you on yr stinging stench
unwinding open
to recklessly bloom down my earsnosethroat
at th shivering risk of choking me
on th moldy ash of accelerating time
yr body will inevitably, helplessly secrete clot & disgorge faced with & facing exposure to another?
what does it take
that each day you remind me I am so barren of?
luv, d=(8{>