Another day goes
Another river flows, my eyes go all white, my thighs lose all their fight, another tear falls.
Another day goes by, another stroke a different folk, another bridge to the moon. It goes it goes on it goes by yet another way.
Perhaps I'll love you another day, or maybe I'll go bye and die in your arms another night, I might. In another life you'd forgive this slight but not tonight.
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When the red sky was not red
My memories are like a bog, a slog that breathes the air of the living, but the body, it's full of the last breaths of the dead, they heave and fester, dead futures rise to the surface and stink of their past.
I remember it like yesterday, yesterday like tomorrow and yesterday's tomorrow. I remember when the red sky was not red. I remember how I knew, how I sang songs of the coming past, how I wrote odes to the omens of death.
I remember how I scorned, how I cared, how I thought I died. I remember how I kicked the chair, how I heard children being born in caves.
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To those that perished elsewhere
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Killing time
Living away from the sea now
Killing time and...
Killing, slowly pacing losing,
Patience in my eyes
Cutting loose the senses
Coarse touches of the pages,
I forgot to read these days the,
Hours seem to fade away to,
A pile of dust on my sleeping face
These days I hear,
The heat is up and the rent is,
Due tomorrow, is that what,
I should've said, I could've I,
Would've stayed
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You who sleep
There was a wall, and when you walked next to it, it was not a wall.
You were a dissociative force, you removed signs from signifiers.
And when you looked at me I was not me.
And when you walked along that road, the asphalt was you, and you were asphalt.
Cruel heaven and the wind too left their words behind.
You had all you did not want, and all had you.
You were a city, and the city was invisible, you had no past, no future.
You looked out from the balcony, the world was you, and the world was dead.
You felt the ocean wind, and the red sky was not red, and you did not rise, and the sun did not set.
Nothing was as it was yesterday, and yesterday was nothing like before.
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Angst
Transcendental light in my eyes
I can almost hear my ears already shatter
From the bomb I'll throw at the heart
That which remains is untouchable
Total emancipation of the heart
That moment that pierces
Tennis practice and colonoscopies
Holy fervor that rips you open
My violence was not political
It wasn't even violent
I was a loser
I wanted to win and I wanted to die
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For sale?
Thanks,
Greg
I'm not selling artworks at the moment but I appreciate the interest.
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