swords and falconry

my sweet sweet hearts.

i am missing you dearly.

dallow, spicer, pinkie brown, cubitt

over the ocean, over the moon.
"sweetheart", my sweetheart...

i will see you soon.

and when you said soon, i thought you meant sooner.
i will meet you there. you can come here. .,,we can meet half way.

on an island. in an inlet. on a barge in the sea.

wherever, really.

gracefully, graceful. crazily flail. limbs and branches kicking around. i am flying. without path.

when part of you is sick, the rest of you might rush to catch up, because its hard to be the healthy one sometimes. it takes more work.

i made a list of things. Place we go, people we meet. I wake up and think it really happened. we ate cake. we ran into the trees and catapulted here and there. I was quick. you were sneaky. everyone keeps talking about the beard. its cool. whatever.

im growing one too.

i like toast with a little honey. you like it with that spread. nothing fancy. breakfast is important. i like it alright. toast and coffee is different than toast and tea.

chicago feels like fall in the air. my skin is cold. i wear a jacket in the summer.

how about where you are?

eighteen days of swimming.

"Each has his past shut in him like the leaves of a book known to him by his heart, and his friends can only read the title." Va.Woolf

stuck in hair, stuck in life is what she used to say. trim trim...and then she chopped her head off.  stuck in head, stuck in life is really what she meant.

how to wreck the house.

and within the span of 12 hours, the whole thing blew apart. a tornado (silent and gentle as a breeze) ripped through, no sirens or bells,  leaving little trace that anything was ever there. in one great breath, splintering through and thorough, whatever was is not and never was.

heave in. chest out. go.

finally i don't notice my arm is missing. I don't think about it all the time. all day. I can leave my house without glass walls, without a cage of guilt. 

Finally I don't think about the hair growing and the nails curling beneath your sheets of dirt. I don't think about the earthworms in holes where your eyes have already rotted. I don't think about how your flesh turned into silk webs and the nutrients you lent to the moss above. 

bloodletting. mud settling. rock tumbler. 

im here always as your murder mystery party.  

yours,

caliban

the freckled monster. mooncalf.

not honored with a humans shape.

all the times i had.

"Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises,
Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears; and sometime voices
That, if I then had waked after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again; and then in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open, and show riches
Ready to drop upon me, that when I waked
I cried to dream again."

bad habits.

below the surface of the water.

I just wanted to see their faces.

to see a ghost and shake its hand.

powder your lovely face. bury your eyes and blur your vision. it has never ever ever been the same.

two holes in a sheet, arms outstretched.

hold tight with ferver and fever.

it's the eskimo blood in my veins.

a little room in a polite cave. I'll happily keep these things in my ears. please kindly get out of my face. im going to spit now. 

mirrors to keep myself company. kind faces always. an orchestra which i can hum along to. all of the things i love surrounding me. 

pebbles. pedals. pimentos.

wait wait wait wait wait wait wait wait wait wait.  your patient constitution. repeat. deduct. 

hidden away in the belly of the great goblin, a stack of books. for every mistake, a mark upon your face. wash wash, it will only fade, forever scarred with these pits. hollowed out, limbs of wood and plastics. 

you are here to build. 

build a fortress made of paper. bound it up for your next meal. 

he said:  for every stitch, an inch. an inch an inch, you filthy snitch.

running from tree to tree, bounding across the canopy, catapulting the horizon, hovering just nearly out of sight. theyll never catch you.

a near escape, dear lovely.

oh that stupid organ. i hate the beats it makes. sounds like church. 

and where are you when i need you, my dear.

 where are you when ive stepped into a rabbits hole. a nest of termites chowing down? 

heart of hearts, one evening afternoon, my head exploded into a tiny parcels. tied in ribbons or silky weaves, woven around in your fumbling digits.

 braided and knotted. tightly nightly.

 brave giants hold their breaths.

you're lucky

I would like to jump off a diving board. I'll hit the surface flailing. a familiar feeling on my arm hitting water feels right. 

I woke up the other morning with half a body asleep. wild dream. Last night I was so funny in my sleep. We were climbing a tower of red cabinets. I was holding on for my life and i fell 80 drawers to the ground.  I stayed still and waited for the rescue workers to arrive. you jumped to keep my company and we laughed for a good long time. I kept warning you to keep still because of possibility of internal bleeding. but you kept on wiggling around. because that's what you do best.

You apologize for your grumpy behavior, blaming it on your age. and it made me smile. i say to you: you! you really are old. say oldie, how are your aches today. me, my knee creaks and crackles going up stairs. im going to catch up to you, ketchup.

It makes me feel something....the way that that guy in The The says the word "money" and also the way you say "singing". Its just funny and i can't help repeat it outloud. it sounds like this: sing.ging. yah, and his sounds like this: mmuhh.naaee. come on, smile too. just because i can't see it, i know it. that's better. what did i tell you. Its going to be better.

home.

awake at 7 am? no need.

things will be ok, dear. 

we always liked that record

red hook.

brooklyn.

20th ave.

off of olive way. 

across the ocean.

across town.

three hours in either direction. with traffic.

five hours with a time change.

i miss you. i miss you. 

You live by the zoo. Your garage is sunken in and there is a tree out front that sprouts cherries. and all winter I wanted to sprout it with leaves. it looked so alone. we sat on the first stair and leaned on the railing watching the way breath becomes fog and disappears. 

You cook food for me and make me eat it. I usually hesitate at first, you will not poison me. You helped me stand when I had too much to drink. I vomited and then I drove away in the morning without breakfast or a peep.

I couldn't help but laugh when she said "don't be vexed." and everything comes back to it. you read too much. your drive through name badge reads caligula.  It's a whisper. 

you are too far east and too far west and so far to the north. i can barely stand it when i cannot reach you. i clench my hand as though its yours. its just one hand grabbing five familiar fingers. i miss you. i miss you.

Its a pity.

and once you arrive, we will stare at the way our faces are so familiar. we are so familiar and so much the same. straight down to the way we tie our familiar shoes' laces. my beautiful friend. we love eachother.

hey, I miss your dog. That was the best walk in the arboretum I ever went on. We were going to go the movies, but I liked the fireplace at the hotel bar. At the stoplight, you rolled down your window and i told you a secret. so much for a secret if you yell it out. It was just you and me. Did you ever see that movie?