3 dec 2006 / WHERE DO I GO?

do i take mountain roads lined with boulders and bitter fog; or waves with green sparkles, edgings as sweet as cake frosting? or perhaps i am to follow tree roots deep underground to reach molten paradise within the hard center of this fruit. the surface is scratched and burnt in the third degree, wounds that will never heal. and it is all because of us, small creatures of habit and talent and passion and not.

under their feet, cracks and cries, the sparks of raging stars, escaping with terrible might and fury. my hair is longer now but not by enough and do i have to water it to make it grow stronger like the sky who holds up countless corpses and complains not once? dip your hands into the river, watch your reflection, but do not drink from it, for you shall retreat to a place so terrible, so furious, even the trunk of the elephant cannot pull you out.

what did you expect?