summer, (l)over

how could i ever forget?
your earnest proclamation: 
you missed california's light most
while suffering through winter in brooklyn
or the way you would stop and smell lavender with your whole body

one cycle of the moon's phases
burned these memories into my brain
and i am certain it will take many more moons to erase them

listening to songs i wish i had writ on repeat
at least i wish we could listen together
but you don't want to hear anything from me
so for now you'll keep laughing in my head
and maybe someday i'll see your smile outside of my skull

"don't ever compromise what you believe"

i still mean what i say
though convictions are strange
and having feelings even weirder
how do i tell everyone i miss and love them all at once?

oh look, i'm still thinking about you

i can't do anything
that reminds me of you
which rules out everything
that reminds me of you
which is everything

cucurbitaceae photography

luna opens her mouth,
she tries to speak.

"i have made another green world for you."

her voice quickly fades, 
lost in the verdantly thick summer air.

today my heart was

today my heart was in my throat for more than one reason.

babybabybabybabaybabby

I'M SO SICK OF
SONGS ABOUT BABY BABY, GIRL
BABIES ARE BABIES, NOT FOR DATING
CAN WE ALL BE SICK OF PATRIARCHY,
PLEASE?

untitled #33

wish you were here
wish you heard where
wish i was there
wish you would care
wish wish wish wash
wishy washy herse verse

best coast?

my days are eight minutes longer than my father's
(and at time of writing, almost 40 degrees hotter)

Venus, a perigee moon, and thousands of Mexican free-tailed bats all rose with the night (which does not fall, I recently learned). An ex-lawyer, a farmer, and two college students walked into a bar. It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke, but really was just another Saturday afternoon in Rio Vista. We were greeted by at least 600 pairs of eyes, most of them long since replaced by glass and forever stuck in a rude stare. So we gawked right back, took a few dimly lit photographs, scooted past the biker gang, and returned to the quiet heat of an almost vacant downtown.

i am rocky raccoon.

gideon's bible is only good for burning.