Arbulus-Menziesii

Stuporous I sink  when, days end drawn near,  glowing near, sultry and stifling, Stuporous,  I watch glittering idols on the cave wall  dumbly simmering,  slowly sweating out my skin Letting sentience be no more than a tickle Before I, weary, close my eyes.Tomorrow I rise, Sisyphus looking past the boulder Privately dreaming of the crest...

You have not been out at three-forty-five at night, when all the people are furniture in their own homes so I could tell you how every shadow is a work of art and how the flowers look so tired and so worn out after being so pretty all daybuthearing me say it is no substitute for coming with me when I don my somber and let the witching hour wake us up

I was going to be a scientist but then I realized I was a natural philosopher...When I came home, I went to sleep - and I was sleeping three weeks later when they came and changed my life.The lovers started hating and the hateful were waiting for the moment when they find something worth loving.And then the lesser idols of my life started falling one by one pulled into slumbers from which they never arose. and I thought - "this is my friend my teacher my elder my uncle - my family, near and far, wearing out and falling apart."I fought, started fighting, am fighting for the first time in my life fighting for myself, for pride and ego fighti...

"you could have had any man, you know - and you picked me -" said slowly. and quickly the response: "well you could have had any woman you wanted so -" mutual recourse to sweating water glasses, chilling the hands. silence and eyes slipping past one another, and settling... on the pretty handsome figure across the room -

It was in the spring of that year that my wife went into labor.  She was in one of the smaller towns of the Northeast at the time; I was in the West contracting some bit of business or other, lost now to my memory.  By the time I had navigated as far as she had been, some complication had forced her into one of the better hospitals in one of the larger towns near where her trouble had come upon her, and I tried for interminable hours to catch up while faceless voices informed me of her worsening state.  It is not an experience I would wish to repeat.A sharp wind bit my cheek as I stumbled onto the pavement outside the monolith where I had ...

the stranger walked on streets of stone and mud, his boots a tawny tone from foreign dust, his coat the same. he strode the streets with purpose dim but in his eyes, enough of him to see his task was not the tame travail of the collared men who flowed nearby and now and then would see his eyes and know his name.

When I hear that we live in a participatory culture, I cannot help but think of -     (and here I really must apologize to those      who take this sort of thing seriously) I cannot help but think of -     (I suppose you could say I am      overly influenced by my education) I cannot help but think of a socialist inoculum solemnly organizing on a glass slide and petitioning the microscopist for redress.

At the bottom, Statistics dance and fizz through the ether - blinding fast and unwatchable.They whirl and collapse, entangling in pleasure, freezing in disapproval, flavoring the fabric of being.The middlemen cling to charismatic partners, who keep the disapproving minority at an uncertain distance.This coalition of eighteen is part of an organization on the scale of hundreds of individuals, united in purpose.This organization flies emitted with ten thousand others for one purpose, unknowing and swift.They reach their target - fulfill their mission - are dissolved unhesitatingly.  Their legacy? Crackling lightning, flowing and fleeting.The...

reading the above reminds me how shitty my prose can be. it's weird - any time I try to write anything ########## other than a criticism of myself, i can't seem to make it interesting. even then ######## it's probably only interesting to me ##### but hey, one ##### is better than none. maybe that's how I should write out my story - as one long series of critiques.      (you know I never liked this part in the original#: of course, ############ the above might be ## a bit pessimistic?I'm sure you agree.)