GAH

I just remembered that I’m supposed to be working on the basics, and avoiding this stuff.  But its so much fun.  And it doesn’t take much time.  I supposed I could challenge myself to condense character development and conflict into a page or two.  There is no need to exceed that.  Mostly I’m just lazy.  I am my bane. The solution is deliciously Buddhist.  

(ellipsis)

The zeal of the morning shine struck and carried beneath the bloody clouds, tearing shadows across the whispered landscape. The sand shown orange as I slithered and slicked beside my towering shadow, and the waves sang Wash and Show. The girl slid from the salty lifeguard shack behind me, padding her way –surely, padding—across the pouring sand. The salt blew her hair into my face and my nose filled my head with the flowers growing in the sand as her hand pressed into mine, fingers binding and tangling there on the sand.

She said something then, notes lilting and tilting me into her, and she held me and I could only smile as I fell into her. More words, soft, hypnotic, lolling and lulling reverberating through me, wrapping around me and rolling with me, soft, warm. Perfect.

And somewhere in the distance a flag clanged against its pole as a breeze tugged it awake to stand and greet us. The click, sharp snap, crisp through the air as though the world were silent but for the pointed noise rising above the low rushing wash and the hissing retreating show that muffles the silence of every beach.

And her hand squeezing again like a click, like a tug away from the distance that had captured my eyes and her words rolled over me like a smile, like thunder or a heavy blanket that pushes down on the chest and arms. A sense. An overwhelming tide of gasping breath and pounding heart. An undercurrent towing me down and down and away with her crystal eyes rushing like water into my lungs, her fingers holding gentle, holding me in the tumble under her smile.

She looks away, her eyes breaking away, riding back along the horizon, drawn by something I could not see. I could breath again, and the wind blew her hair back across her shoulders.

From Yesterday, when I was more sensible

Torn and waiting sieze and thought
by horse and tinge it all but sought
and shooting from the thwarted mein
beneath the wabe or boren Tain.

Oh what, do you or I unfurl
beneath the silence of the curl
and taken in and taken back
to when we are within the lack

word taste

blare the tarnished bungle horn
and shadow thinse the shallow herd
running whence [ ] bounding fell
curdle hurled and cuddle round
bell from bale and bovine moon
bouncing chale and chalky fume
think upon the stout and call--
what is thrumming and unsad
on the ledge of torn smiles
i cast away the demon years.

Ramen

Writing a paper. I have not slept.
I am eating ramen from a rice cooker.