Flockprinter

Flockprinting is an aggressive electrostatic action
using severe heat to force finely chopped fibers
onto patterns of fabric
ultimately resulting in
soft touch.

When they told You that this was Your assignment
You flockprinted straitjackets and suits of armor.
So I asked if You wanted to trade jobs
because damn, Baby,
that
is poetry.

And yeah, these arms fell backwards
when ya did it
chest outstretched
open to the way You palms up turn me,
I knew You’d be good.
I just didn’t know how good

even before we met,
when the assignment was to draw words
with their own literal meanings
I would write out each letter of the word LOVE
using winning halves of wishbones, melted Crayons
and the toe tips of the great dancers who’ve quit dancing
because I don’t give up on shit like that.
I always knew I’d find You

even before we met,
when the assignment was to partner up in ice water, and keep our heads above it
I’d watch boys with girls take the shallow end of the 8th grade
like
suckerfish
swapping skin deep aquarium air tubes
trying to make each others shivers fit.
We don’t swim that way.
Never gonna.

You have been a long time comin’
and the clouds have rolled You in slowly.
But I ain’t mad at the upshot sky.
Rain,
it’s my lucky number.
It’s the author of release.
It taught me monsters are easy to come by
so I went out and found the beast
before we met
when the assignment was to incomplete myself
with sad songs and recycled insults,
when I was spun out eyes bagged teeth fist first in lust and considering Jesus,
You were there.
You have been the whole journey
and I ain’t got nothin’ against goin’ home
to You,
Flockprinter.

You look good in yer tidal wave,
toe-to-toe with the mean blue moon,
head raised up like a lighthouse.
You are buttercups spraying
out the mouths of doves,
fireworks stuck in the air.
You’re a freestanding landing pad held together by choir claps.
You’re a god
not afraid
to walk with the saviors
who ride monkeys around on their backs
kicking up mercury
spreading upward openly,
carrying breath.
Well.

You’re an18-stringed guitar heart sparkin’
off roots dancing out of the river’s edge.
You walk like a free country
with an affinity for thick skin.
You live
humming to the tune of let loose like a railway
banging through the middle of Novocain,
an open winded under water fire escape.

Flockprinter,
You have, now are, and always will be
my reflection of individuality
carried out by the acoustic drift
of a snowflake…
livin’ with a fingerprint

And I
am rumble motion jawbone
waterlogged with ink spots
smiling ear to ear
armed with backbone and busted zoo gates
promising You
from the bottom of my harmonica pocket
forever,
You will never have another lonely holiday.

Even now,
where the assignment is to live without a destination,
I end up with You and the rain, released.
Both,
flockprinting stars
between me and the beast.

- Buddy Wakefield

oceanographer's choice- the mountain goats
Cut And Run - Electrelane
nothing better - postal service

i can't move or think or eat or drink or smoke anymore.

you say you don't love me- the buzzcocks
don't fall in love with me-the magnetic fields

dial a cliche'

just empty cliche's echoing out and crashing up against each other and i'm swaying so hard as the flood of shock swallows me. I was so sure about you. but you weren't sure about me. filled me up like a balloon then burst me with retraction.
DISCLAIMER:My feelings may expire, check best before.
you did it clean, so I don't get to be cross. but, fuck, I can't possibly beleive the girls who loved you before me, the ones who got to be angry because of how you fucked up, I won't beleive they loved you like I do.
and I want it to stop. I think it's unfair that you could retract your feelings in an instant. And I am a husk with nothing inside, but wishing i could stop loving you. I'll never make you love me.
You gave me so much. I'd filled the void in me with you, and now that you're gone the hole is bigger and there's nothing i can do.
I'm broken heart cliche's and drunk and high all sticky-taped together with lit cigarettes.
That's all I've got left, that's what I'm reduced to. I never was much more than that anyway. And you have the gall to tell me I haven't changed and I'm still awesome. I can't help but feel like if that were true you'd still love me.
I can't make myself understand how your heart could change so fast.I wish mine could too. 'm sick of being stuck with being so sad with loving you.
nothing makes sensenothing makes sense, nothing makes sense, nothing maskes sende nothinfg mskrs sensde nothingnmakes sensde nothindf mskeds sendsnothingmakes sense
I'm terrified that nothing will ever make sense again

it's the year again, this part of it. I get excited i get new i find things and they find me and tendrils touch and curl around each other in perfect organic harmony...the air is charged; electric winds and energies collide and crash up against each other like waves breaking...but with explosions of pleasantness...
coffee and cigarettes
portland through a shotglass with a buffalo squeeze