lovers who are really geese: November 2011

swans

"Doesn't really matter, you know, what kind of nasty names people invent for the music. But, uh, folk music is just a word, you know, that I can't use anymore. What I'm talking about is traditional music, right, which is to say it's mathematical music, it's based on hexagons. But all these songs about, you know, roses growing out of people's brains and lovers who are really geese and swans are turning into angels - I mean, you know, they're not going to die. They're not folk music songs. They're political songs. They're already dead."

Jude, I'm Not There.

Illustration of goose from here.

Friday, November 18, 2011

what it is to suffocate

careful strokes of a brush,
glancing off of cheekbones
_____(like rain, on a windshield)
putting colors together
_____(like worlds in a universe)
and making of a canvas what gods did to the cosmos
carefully pushing a smile onto lips thinner than candlelight
planting a fingerprint onto Mona Lisa's skin,
_____calling her a masterpiece,
_____and then calling her "mine"

(the way her skin folds is the way you hold your breath)