Distribution Automatique

Thursday, April 24

Four Nocturnes


i.e. the mystical blue
that holds me to you

instead of deep breaths
longings that won't share

surroundings flake out
to the horizon of inhabitability

space is a translation of
name to name- possibility

provokes panic- no, I'm not
intractible, just here trying

to translate hieroglyphs of
pleasure into symbols of silence


Silence- a good place to start out
from but deadening to the spirit

in large doses- see the way
it waits for you inside doubt

and delay- the way it waits to
double itself in the screams but can't

sound can erase it in spurts
like a plane going by in the sky

but hurt unfolds it carefully
and covers it your whole day

exhausted, you spread it even
further across your thoughts


The one least worn
it goes inside

and far less warm
it tries to glide

to note its harm
and change its side

to wrap its form
and find its guide


digs a hole
Make way for the
cold intruder.
That's it,