a oneway street splits to create two oneway streets

a basic mouth

colorful plants that look dead inside 

an annoying song that relies too heavily on nostalgia that I dance to even though i kind of hate it

river body and body river

color correction

always the same and always beautiful

on knees cloth over face over and over face knees over cloth

anything on a mountain

anything out on the ocean

every subdivision of an order, family, genus, subgenus, species. 

rocks that also look like hair

making out in a broom closet 

blue ground, blue water, blue sky

the most normal thing i have ever seen

slap bass and wurbles and shitty keyboards and snare-bass dance beat and slowed-down vocal samples warning

no pants and boots, covering his cock

a long walk on the beach

a body of water beside the ocean

didn’t listen to emo when it was popular 

too much reading for a tumblr post

a mark left in flesh after something has been pressed against it for a while

another mark left in flesh after something has been pressed against it for a while

another mark left in flesh after something has been pressed against it for a while

another mark left in flesh after something has been pressed against it for a while

another mark left in flesh after something has been pressed against it for a while

another mark left in flesh after something has been pressed against it for a while

another mark left in flesh after something has been pressed against it for a while

another mark left in flesh after something has been pressed against it for a while

the dark forest

a branch in front of a calm expression, a fern in front of a body

brown water

blown bubbles of pink bubble gum

mountains with cloud shadows cast on them

an ocean horizon 

dressed to match the environment while remaining visible 

i should get out of the house

where is that

beautiful alien 

famous people snuggling and holding hands

dramatic lighting 

film grain on a beautiful landscape 

color corrected nature

a welling sensation as he walks ahead of me naked into the river water

again with the ocean 

boop emotional talk talk words talk talk emotional boop

the silhouette of an imaginary city, Idea City; i am in Idea City so Idea City is a city in a city because it is in my mind giving me the idea to have someone thinking of Thought City inside Idea City inside the city i reside 

another mountain, this one has some clouds covering part of it

some words centered over everything, with nowhere to go

finger intertwining

the ocean crashing into the sand horizon

another dark forest

four dark forests side by side like four windowpanes in a window frame  

flying beside flying

forest and sky lips smile behind power lines

a waterfall probably niagara falls 

the silhouette of the ocean 

another sunset 

a body awkwardly grabbing another body

two more sunsets 

everything is loveless pink

some crazy looking cavern god knows where

a sober person made to look as though they are on drugs

ripped body and cut body, muscular body and six-pack body, built body and strong body

all the most beautiful landscapes collaged together

mosquito netting, blood born pathogens

ghostly lights 

portrait view of a landscape photo 

an embrace and the reflection of an embrace 

laying spine notches turned portrait too

someone takes their cloths off for no reason i can think off

a boring song

a scrawny, pale body beside pale flowers

chekov landscape  

i think city lights and someone else says city lights

people obscured by magical effects

a key change, a lock change  

the river splits this dark forest right down the middle

a dramatically light back 

a drive 

some other oceans 


like holding a picture of someone else’s face over your face

center reflected in one point perspective 

as though every bridge was the golden gate bridge

she stands silhouetted by the moon


less brutal

who is that

pick-up-stick superhighways 


things only rich people can do

places only rich people can live

knowledge only rich people can have access to


Dig That Book Co. & Reality Hands teamed up to publish Megan Lent’s beautiful chapbook “The End of the World” & it’s a featured book this week at Powell’s!!!


METACOGS by No Glykon & James Roo is now available to read/download.

get sick with nauseated drive’s newest release


staring deeply into a large fire, zoning out

horizontal lines

fibonacci sequence times pi

frozen and analyzed and sucked into the computer down paths along circuits digital landscapes, teleporting features, grids

there’s a disproportionately large amount of people in here looking at me


something is in there

a a large fire, zoning out out


Just feel like plugging my nearly one yr old e-chap, Rodentia and Other Guilty Small Animals.

hi guys

When I look for you in time,
I condense all the life I know into a day.
I forget of her April 14th

And I forget of their history,
My New Orleans,
Your Orphans and you.

I forget all life happens & ends on a sinking ship.
I forget I saw Mr. Lincoln going down
Inside the Titanic’s theater,
And Mr. Booth is already on deck
Fighting The Yemassee War near the bow.
Forget scenes of colonial enslavement &
Iceberg slaughter on the high seas.
The steerage class flees to the outnumbered rafts
Like Apalachee refugees to St. Augustine’s knees,
Forget You and Noah Webster consult two Benjamins
Before adding ‘abolition’ to his new word book schemes.
Early in the morning I see Stout Marshall Stoudenmire
Pull twin Colt Revolvers from his sides, gun down
Four vaqueros’s dreams aboard space shuttle Columbia (OV-102),
Having just returned to El Paso
after its 37 orbit.

When I look for you, Mother Margaret, it seemsApril 14th is the
orphan, raised by Sister’s womb-stream,
I’m a Sycamore Tree named Isis, You,
The three killings of Osiris,
The bastard pharaoh of our dead brother Set rings.
On April Fourteen
I only see through The Eye of Horus:
My body where Camp and Prytania Streets meet,
& I forget you aren’t breathing with me.

For us!

I forget the 105th day in a leap year.
I forget The Donner Party is just leaving Springfield.
I forget ‘The Ballad of Tom Joad’ plays on the Zenith Short Wave,
I forget I sing along in the middle of that Black Sunday Storm.
I forget on April 14th, 1882, months before you died, you gave birth.
I forget the boy’s name is Moritz Schlick:
I forget “Cat-gut Cord” (Aran’s line!) means birth,
& I forget Lebensweisheit is your eulogy, leave them beautiful,
Forget that day in 1860, when I carried news
west for The Pony Express,
The St. Joseph’s Gazette carried news of birth in Butcher’s Hollow,
The Coal Miner’s Daughter turned 3 and gave her Bible to Von Daniken.
I forget in ’41 that Peter Rose was born an orphan with King Leopold II…
And they don’t allow orphans in the halls of
Cooperstown or the Congo.

So I forget you nurture Zamenhoff’s child-language after death.
I forget the Allied Forces land in Normandy.
I forget Robert E. Lee resigns from the Union Army.
I forget Pocahontas marries John Rolfe,
plays hungry games with us.
I forget Ms. Tubman starts an Underground Railroad.
I forget Mr. Koresh finishes the Bhagavad Gita
& agrees to surrender.
I forget to breathe as the house falls in around us…

I forget and I forget and I forget, I forget I’ve seen it all,
So I stop, sit by your chair and remember:
It’s April 14th again, and I loved you best in New Orleans.

— At Last the Forgetting, or Mother Margaret it’s New Orleans Again (via davewright21)