Arimneste

It’s been a while folks, I know. But I’ve been a’ramblin.

Jack Frost.

I live on Mars. Obviously.

Chicago, ORD.

Rise up comrades and fight the good fight. Or listen to your favorite bowling match. I present the last.fm group for The Work of Days (aka My Book). Of Awesome.

www.last.fm/group/The+Work+of+Days

So we have conjured outdoors; current
climates: political and safety, inasmuch as
mass conversion is symptomatic. Heaven
protect our lighters, our gates and alarms;
protect our weapon of choice, our narrative
of heroics we place by every door.

I’m staring straight into my drink, this order
of homelessness, my purse-straps down

‘round my ankles. Which isn’t to say
I can’t spin desirability, that I can’t tongue
an olive, but where from here, now?

I am the robot-animal
you ignore. You are days
needed; what’s spooned in
that come down hour: that
three or four hour, that clawing
sober retch.