Thursday, September 2, 2010

i run out of cigarettes sometimes.

Sometimes I forget my name;
and my place.
I see manicured fools
slyly check their reflections in shop front
windows.
Like thieves, successful in their art.
Just keep on smiling you credit-card chameleons.

Time and again I forget my voice;
but not the idea.
I see these songbirds
gossip and scheme
I open my mouth and the sound is exiled
before it exists;
an unplanned child from an unplanned kiss.
Keep on singing you birds of prey.

Too often I forget my face;
my space,
my time,
everyday is a distant re-run
from a distant VCR.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

amsterdam

my camera broke theother day.
i am now in amsterdam,
and feeling odd.
i bought a magazine.
ate a sandiwch.
drank a beer.
took a shit;
all the while i'm
sleeping on the floor.
the train station taunts me,
i feel alive.