coastal highway

We are ahead even before sunrise.
trying to exist, here and now.

in the big city living means a constant
drone of sound, from dawn till dusk.

Each pedal warrants a longing for
home. as in the Coastal Highway.
as in watching waves crash in only
a right turn of the head.

I had dreamt of wasps chasing me.
in this city. When i woke, i breathed
in ocean salty air. My heart left by the
coast. i am a ghost hovering,
by the sidelines.

insomnia

“I lost my temper at myself” said
the character from Anderson when
she punched herself in the mirror

What garners that kind of courage
because I am losing my temper at
myself and in sleep I am duty
bound not to dream

Lest I am running
and my teeth are falling out
— fists unfurled to show five
and blood spit in the sink

The heat sways with the
electronic drone of a semi-broken
lamp and I am watching shadows
flee

My eyes are closing though
I could’ve put myself down earlier
but I never do

libras and scorpios are incompatible

I sat on the gray suede couch, fiddling with an iPod – was it hers or mine? She was standing over the mess of a counter. A pot of boiling water, pasta in hand ready to drop. Eggs, bacon, cream.

There was a strand of hair in my bowl.
We ate and left the plates strewn on the kitchen table. I went back to the couch. The song that came up was Expatriate – The Spaces Between. I told her to listen. “It’s a great song.” So then I gave her one-half of  the earphones. She leaned closer. We kissed.

Or did this happen before we ate? I think it was when the pasta was boiling. 

I had my hands pressed against her neck. She’s got really short hair, blonde. The song was still playing in both our ears. I wondered: how the fuck did I end up with you. You’re a Libra. It’s not written in the fucking stars. Our signs aren’t compatible. When are we going to end? I messed up your hair. You’ve got the softest sighs. 

I dreamt of running away from someone/something last night, in three different scenarios.

I quote a friend:

“maybe the things you’re running from are the anthropomorphisations of your problems”

This is probably true.

Sitting, staring –
Sounds wavering, voices distant;
People passing.

Momentarily;
It stands still.

It starts again.
A
Coin
Drops
Beckoning, beckoning –
She looks up.
He looks down.

Someone wise once said,
“Life is a probability dysfunction.”