I use 0.5, 0.7, and 1.0 mm Pilot Pens (after David Foster Wallace)

It’s just words. Just words. Just words and words and words. Just just and just words and words just words.



Nothing just words.

Everything just words.

All words just words. 

All words, Just words.

Everything, Just words.

Nothing, Just words.

Nothing nothing just, Just words. 

Everything and everything just, Words.

All words all, Just words.



I wrote this to say: Just words. Just and words just words words and words words, Just words.

A note, Here–Just words. Just words and words. Just words and just words and words and words just words. Just just just and just; Words. 



Just words just words just words just words just words just words just words just words just words just words just words just words just words just words just words jut words just words just words just words. Just words just words just words just words just words just words just words just words, Just words just words, Just words just words just words just words just words just words just words just words just words.



About: Just Words.

I: Just Words.

You: Just Words. 

And It: Just Words.

You especially: Just Words. 

You, Especially: Just Words.



Just just just and just words and words, just words. 



Just words and words and words and words just just just and just and just words just words just words just words and just words just words just words and just and words, Just words.

The best way to break the ice is with a dead deer

or a single scoop
at Marianne’s
on a cone, please.
Thanks

chocolate and peanut butter
what kind did you
get? 50-50?
“Customer Favorite,”

classic
maybe i should tell you
i’m not, though.
seriously,

i can feel every microcosmic smudge of cream on my face and every potential, which means i’m gonna shred this napkin thinner than these get-to-know-you conversations before we’re even through here, yet it won’t necessarily stop me from eating the whole curséd thing even though i firmly believe that my alternations between forming coherent phrases and swallowing these fantastic globs of chocolate certainly will betray my severe struggle to appear at least averagely controlled, so yeah, basically this melting Mount Olympus sugardream is the main cause of my urge to run into the middle of the street but at the same time the very thing thing that keeps me from running into the middle of the street, in light of the negligible fact that i also think you’re kind of cute, but whatever, i mean

this is
just
small talk. anyways.
Which reminds

me, have you seen the
dead deer
on the trail?
I found it when i

was running through the
woods
this morning.

Get-to-know-you questions after finally breaking the ice (a prayer)

Where are you when I am less than
sober
and want to stone myself for my own transgressions.

But, guilty as charged: I’m not perfect. Am I
not
allowed to cast stones on even myself?

And sometimes I wonder whose hands are
bloodstained
the most. Now I have said something terrible.

But you are not normal. Lion’s
teeth
in your eyes. I think that’s why I love you.

And I am a fool. I can hardly tell the difference between
breathing
and drowning. Will you catch me either way?

I question that you’re the sky; I think you are the
sand
and dirt. Besides, that is where I am made every day.

Talons: An Explication

Wrapped in white,

I am the galloping pencil strokes

and jet ink

Bridled by stanza, rhythm, and diction


These are the tap tap taptaptap typings of salvation songs.

And as the Teacher speaks, so writes the sheep
In glittering masks of honesty
As Pollock splatters,
“This is the conversation I’ve always wanted to have

but never wanted to speak.”

Are you listening?; 


There are six ways to hear,
Thousands to understand, and
One
moment of courage
to write it down.

Untitled

The rain falling sound outside my window
trickled like bravely quiet notes of a piano
into the caverns of my head. I drifted off to sleep,
pretending I was the lucky soil sighing with relief
as it soaked up the fruit of a drought’s fervent prayer.