January 2011
8 posts
4 tags
GPOY
Fortune Cookies
A chance is missed and I imagine it sounds like a train crushing a car on tracks, a cat hissed and bat a claw, retracts and feels guilt A chance is missed and it sounds like a screeching halt as a mouse clutched from a field’s life would feel A squeal of brakes as they give out down a hill, or the moment after the bottle of pills and the fifth when you realize your hand must travel...
Watchronstormer:
ronstormer:
A clip of Barnstormers doing “Street Preacher” at Charlie Bob’s Drive-In Diner in Nashville last night. Thanks Ash.
Reblogging because I had a great time that night.
Reblogging because we totally should have made out that night.
4 tags
7 tags
Serration.
Insectivorous. Eat, prey, love. Arms, like ideas, bent back in on themselves, and everything thought but left unsaid. You raise your arm as if in mimicry, “akimbo” so casual a word for so cutting a pose and I’m miles away instead… We were solipsists then, my brother and I, as all good young should be, proud and vicious defenders of my father’s roses. The beetles were garish black and yellow...
1 tag
Nantes
Well it’s been a long time, long time now Since I’ve seen you smile And I’ll gamble away my fright And I’ll gamble away my time And in a year, a year or so This will slip into the sea Well it’s been a long time, long time now Since I’ve seen you smile Nobody raise their voices Just another night in Nantes
2 tags
