Archive for January 2014

GOLDFINCH by Donna Tartt

what if one happens to be possessed of a heart that can’t be trusted? what if the heart, for its own unfathomable reasons, leads one willfully and in a cloud of unspeakable radiance away from health, domesticity, civic responsibility and strong social connections and all the blandly-held common virtues and instead towards a beautiful flare of ruin, self immolation, disaster. if your deepest self is singing and coaxing you straight toward the bonfire, is it better to turn away? stop your ears with wax? ignore all the perverse glory your heart is screaming at you? set yourself on the coarse that will lead you dutifully toward the norm, reasonable hours and regular medical check ups, stable relationships and steady career advancement, the New York Times and brunch on sunday , all with the promise of being somehow a better person? or is it better to throw yourself head first and laughing into the holy rage calling your name.

its not about outward appearance but inward significance. a grandeur in the world, but not of the world, a grandeur that the world does not understand. that first glimpse of pure otherness, in whose presence you bloom out and out and out. a self one does not want, a heart one cannot help.


i got carton stickers
that fit on i phone chargers
so everyone can tell
its mine

no matter how many i buy
at 30 bucks a pop
they disappear into thin air

so now
no one can claim
they picked it up by accident
thinking it was theirs

but now
i have too many
its like an episode of hoarders
at best buy or the apple store

i have stickered charger cubes in every room
brightly colored wires
dangle like baby snakes
from each outlet in my new home

problem solved
problem gained



I wanted the fame, but not the cover of Newsweek

Oh well, guess beggers can’t be choosey

Wanted to receive attention for my music

Wanted to be left alone in public excuse me

Been wanting my cake, And eat it too

And wanting it both ways

Fame made me a balloon cause my ego inflated

When I blew seep and it was confusing

Cause all I wanted to do is be the Bruce Lee of loose leaf

Abused ink, used it as a tool when I blew steam

Hit the lottery (oh wee)

With what I gave up to get was bittersweet

It was like winning a huge meet

Ironic ’cause I think I’m getting so huge I need a shrink

I’m beginning to lose sleep: one sheep, two sheep

Going cuckoo and cookey as Kool Keith

But I’m actually weirder than you think

Cause I’m…

friends with the monster

That’s under my bed

Get along with the voices inside of my head

You’re trying to save me

Stop holding your breath

And you think I’m crazy

Yeah, you think I’m crazy