Average Tuesday Night

Let's grow away these bearded blues

cellphone notepad ramble

I thought I saw a man and a woman walking
(leaving the apartment)
red brick night passing bike
turns out
It's just him,
just him and his shadow.

Untitled Text Document (home)

her flesh Medallion

Like a cat on ITS side
Willing belly rub
jab to the chest, and the

using MSN as SMS.
tram, et le français que j'utilise

face pressed against
The comfort of the inanimate.
Cool Wall.

Burning garlic bread in the oven
i come back to a laptop on the table.
Another Monday Night
home

its like she painted my nose blue
and called me good.

Family

Song from an old apartment

across the balcony
down the hall from me
who lives in my building
he runs his little white dog
down the hall
he claps
then runs himself
wootah! he yells
and i swear he just jumpkicked.
i see him through the peep hole
i wonder if he smells pot
hes wearing a red tshirt
he claps again
they race back down the hall
eating fish and chips
drinking a beer
I sink back into the couch
it's around 3AM.

Cat's Lost

casual morning-
day of swimming-
end camping-
walking by -
the cat hiding under the deck.

it's funny,

(she's hiding under my friend's deck)

or could it be me, alone.

anxious by an east end empty apartment
no money
no where to go
but nothings keeping her.
and you know it already,
tomorrow she's gone.

we saved ourselves
from ourselves
an opportunity and a miss

she's just out there
thinking the same
but we cant say
no we cant say

just
yet
?

a touch

orthodontics & bayonet brains
i'm drunk on gas in the city archives
shelves tumbling
i'm erasing
history
...

wake ups to a body of text

breaking the body of garlic
wake ups to text
power failures and the workers policy
last nights pasta
a cup of coffee
and the mornings constipation

a day later
after a night before
aching
slinking
into compatible bliss
headphones and a
steel liquid
fueled
cans
mugs
with a hundred smiling faces

at least i'm getting paid for this,
breaking a body with garlic.

and painting the hypocrite
on a clock's hand of lead

Quoting a thought from the night before

"Why is it that pretty girls walk through dark fields in white dresses"

A brief view/ A work in progress

like yesterdays newspaper
riding the breeze.
floating, crashing into the concrete,
drifting under car tires
falling in puddles
losing print
meanings
torn to clean
dog shit off stilettos
I've been born to
scribbled notes on my back
a phone number for a roomate
written across my header
into another puddle i go
dried by the sun
tattered my pages lie
now shoved against a brick wall
rains fall against me
from the broke eavesdrop above
weeds flourish
through many holes
perforations
(and the crack in the wall)

another late night alley walk (Self Portrait)

Ark Art Club: a new tumblr soon to bear fruit vegetables and foliage

ARKARTCLUB

for you bob the enlarger (temporary post)

So its starts like this...



Then after a lil photoshopping:


pretty sweet eh?

a few months again

i look across at hamilton lights
it has been a muggy toronto night.

i wonder where you are
through the open balcony window

snoring and talking in her sleep
hearing the old lady next door,

some nights
i fear you more.

i wonder who you are now.
revisiting lights of old,
floating around in a digital universe.

reminded of the infinity
and then we're gone.

who she used to be,
at that time.

four years ago.
haunting myself.?
picking at the scab..is it a scab?
is it a scar
i know somethings there
you/i might not be able to see it.

the thought certainly is
but fleeting, undefined
illusion?
are we growing up?

four years ago,
some places five,
is an eternity.
logically
it's about 5 per cent of a lifetime,
that being if we live to eighty..

i think of our deep red curtains
red wine and senility..

this coldest summer on record
but with
the heat revisited
a portion of our time here
has filled me with joy.

receiving your number the past week
surprised and yet didn't
a regular progression
we're both still alive i see,

I for one don't know about you,
but sometimes at least momentarily
cast my thoughts on
autumn's sweater weather.

Foggy Lakeshore

dragon's serenity

e-weekend=easter

A mixed bag, plenty more to come when i get around to working on them.