gone daydreaming

rafting away on my asphalt sea...

lucid living

i'm floundering through my waking hours.

the asphalt queen fears tonight's dream

what now, king of my unconscious?

the blurry edges of memory

you reside in my imagination now.

dreaming downstream

gone skinny dipping, soaked in stars.

my blessings get so blurred

a cold city cradles drafty dreams.

third time's the charm

i'm useless without my blue notebook.

wake up

her dreams were full of broken things: burning buildings, bricks through windows, children without mothers, all activity stomping to the deep rhythm of war beating tirelessly through the city's heavy air. there was nothing to turn to, all the screens had been smashed and the cords had been cut. there was only the sound of machinery and voices. and then, a great rumble came forth from below. the noise was deafening, as the prisoners broke free.

and as soon as the war had begun, it evaporated into the morning air.

at the moment that consciousness hit her as she lay drowning in a pool of sunlight, it was the silence that nearly killed her. the only thing she could hear was the slow steady drip of the minutes, as she faced the prospect of another day in that brilliantly decorated room with the window overlooking the employee parking lot, surrounded by airbrushed photos of impossibly beautiful women, wondering desperately if one day all the lies she produced would give her meaning.

day dream, autumn eves

i dreamt that you'd been stronger.

my own mythology

hope keeps these blue skies suspended.

i blame my parents

wine is a fine sleep aid.

a more interesting story

"vive la récession!" screamed the earth.

falling from the sky

sex like snow—natural, heavy, sudden.

every day,

i wonder how mothers make it.