i can't sleep. the softest pillow is an empty conscience and i'm in a bed of blood diamonds.

(i finally understand that story ___ always told me about the man who _____ ______ and always woke up in the middle of the night with a cold sweat and belted bloodcurling yells in his sleep.)

there's something magical about going to space that's always been in the back of my head. to leave home - not in the sense of flying to illinois but in the sense of really leaving, flying away from the little piece of the universe we as humanity call home.

"let's light this fire one more time"

nihil homini certum est

joe flacco under center at his wedding. heh.

it's another beautiful day in

sunny sunny

red-skied california

and the gravel's caked together in

last night's downpour of mud and there's the

scattered feathers of this morning's roadkill

little yelps of surprise and painless

shining lights, littering wilshire avenue

phones are starting to buzz and

look, there's that homeless man

he's throwing up on the side of the bus stop

again, maybe there's going to be a

good samaritan like that nice lady yesterday that will help him move his bags

but no,

the 720 just came and he's left alone, we all

have mornings like this

the bruin bear looks less bronzed today

maybe it's the hour hand or just too many

trojan beatings, but

it looks tired

virgin pina colada, my god. i can't stop.

it's either

the mugginess of the early summer day

quarter til two overcast, slow

reverberations of muzzled cars and big blue exhaust

or the cold of the house

chilled like the inside of the middle aged

grizzled hispanic's ice cream cart,

sunken eyes and concrete cheekbones

a yellowed cotton ball head and

forearms dotted with the sea of ohio valley hills

my chest feels hollow, an indent in my life where

damp pressure is smothered against it,

a steaming washcloth asphyxiating the void and my lungs are

starting to retreat

non satis scire

phoenix, az

headin' to chi-town for a few days in august as a part of a little college tour of the midwest that'll finalize with dci finals in indy. can't wait.

ahh, seattle.

"we wouldn't last two days without her"

those endless afternoons on carpeted colina living room floors. that was my childhood.