It's silent at night, an inaudible evening Why doesn't my room whisper?Only the thin t.v. hums at times cutting through the dense stillness with pointless sales commercials and obnoxious fictional realities A chilled glass of aged rum diminishes the hours and slurs bundles of minutes bringing the next tepid morning closer;carpool, coffee, work then back … Continue reading Dinner for One
Author: The Eclogues
EP: Fatality
The tree is happy because it is scarcely sentient; the hard rock is happier still, it feels nothing: there is no pain as great as being alive, no burden heavier than that of conscious life. To be, and to know nothing, and to lack a way, and the dread of having been, and future terrors… … Continue reading EP: Fatality
Trashed
On the first page of my scroll I'm in a small provincial cityIn a frisky foreign country The apartments all darkenedMinuscule storefronts shuttered Hours before a suggested curfewIt's always a cool and calm evening My traditional "sober" mask in onI'm walking past a trim street corner Where I admittedly shouldn't beAlone, wavering and coatless againOut … Continue reading Trashed
EP: The Herdsman
I'm herdsman of a flock. The sheep are my thoughts And my thoughts are all sensations. I think with my eyes and my ears And my hands and feet And nostrils and mouth. To think a flower is to see and smell it. To eat a fruit is to sense its savor. And that is … Continue reading EP: The Herdsman
Antiseptic Zirconias
A boy collected dried elks from gangling husks in Jersey kicked land moved north on purple quails randomly several tried understanding Victor who x-rayed young zigzaggers
EP: Envoi
Go, dumb-born book, Tell her that sang me once that song of Lawes: Hadst thou but song As thou hast subjects known, Then were there cause in thee that should condone Even my faults that heavy upon me lie And build her glories their longevity. Tell her that sheds Such treasure in the air, Recking … Continue reading EP: Envoi
Sandy Toes
Sand is always unsteady Never still Where will it end up Stop stirring When will the breeze tire Break free Will it escape the moon, Or clap With a sizzling audience Carrying warmth Swirl through cracked roads Remaining fluid Rubbing the darkest corners As freed grains Burring unfamiliar wisdom In the glass By Amaury Genao
Flipping the board
The vagueness of life is crafty, it has so many tools to whittle Vermont maples into thin frail brooms of compost which scrub away our chalky fields of fears; burdens harvested over 14,235 days you don't always listen to me because I'm a rambling old jointless 2+2=4 logician a pragmatic alarm clock with a broken … Continue reading Flipping the board
EP: Suppose
suppose Life is an old man carrying flowers on his head. young death sits in a café smiling,a piece of money held between his thumb and first finger (i say “will he buy flowers” to you and “Death is young life wears velour trousers life totters,life has a beard” i say to you who are … Continue reading EP: Suppose
EP: Bouquet of Roses in Sunlight
Say that it is a crude effect, black reds, Pink yellows, orange whites, too much as they are To be anything else in the sunlight of the room, Too much as they are to be changed by metaphor, Too actual, things that in being real Make any imaginings of them lesser things. And yet this … Continue reading EP: Bouquet of Roses in Sunlight
The Eclogues 
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