The man with the very large head lifted his chin because he was expecting an answer. His interest had greatly increased when he learned that Mictli had attended Brown University. Mictli didn’t care so much that the man found such a relatively unimportant fact of worth, he was more fascinated by how the man’s words and way of speaking were like plucking fork tines in Mictli’s mind. He heard the man’s voice as both musical and metallic, a dull nickle-plated tone with an unexpected twinge of melody weaving about. There was a rhythm to the older man’s speech that communicated the real questions in his soul, as there is with every person who uses speech in some way. Questions both found and denied, hidden to the speaker or held central in the cognizant mind.
original alien | chapter nine
October 14th, 2009 § 0
amor y guerra
May 13th, 2009 § 8
my body for you
my bones for you
my blood, my heat, my breath for you
i spend it like a child throwing coin in arcades
i wake up and run
along gold dusted paths green shade and torn feet skimming dew laden glade
my life for you and i slam toward the sun
if i burn up chasing stars
because i need to throw them sideways at mute tanks and stone faced fakes
then i’ll turn to smoke laughing
hover over your shoulders and hair
when you feel you’re alone and nobody cares
bristlebrush honeycomb tangerine
fist in the air junglerudder in the stream
you are the stuff of a guerrilleros dream
new girl at the bakery
April 23rd, 2009 § 1
most of them have blonde or red hair and then she’s there with a head of dark curls unspooling and unfurling against her neck in back looping out from under a blue striped hat and over her bare shoulder a lavender tanktop strap