[ .carry.on. ]

[ .carry.on. ]

feel my body broken, the planks bore siding, shingle all the lines, and the curves missing, beating, scraping at my bow. handles missing, and nothing to carry me on or over, to breach this reef.


© Bryan McLean June 19, 2010
086/100:2

[ .guess.it.was,her. ]

[ .guess.it.was,her. ]

your catalytic past, fading into the night, as the highway pulls away, like the film in your gage, in the ways that you sway, oh in the ways that you sway, always.


© Bryan McLean June 18, 2010
085/100:2

[ .mouth. ]

[ .mouth. ]

words wilt in your very presence, as the gaps between gasps increases, mumbling making out the oral orders, as fingerprints imprint in passing, the secret seal, the sounding sigh of the palm to thigh, as hands work up sides, fingers clutching, my mouth meets yours again, cutting off the catch of breath, as you stutter, edit, all onto the cutting floor, the mouthing mercies, all implanted upon you.


© Bryan McLean June 17, 2010
084/100:2

[ .starling,soundings. ]

[ .starling,soundings. ]

as starlings start the sounding day, frothing at maw and wire, talons tucked underline, as they cackle out the wet morning news, choking in the fray, flit and flutter from branch to clothesline and home, in green grey light, lamenting history, as the start works wear down, the clouds move on, and the little birds wind down,
in hunting packs, calling.


© Bryan McLean June 16, 2010
083/100:2

[ .and.she.left, the.next.day. ]

[ .and.she.left,the.next.day. ]

even when I define, all the things I mean, rounded out in silences, those vignettes lost in late hours, she's calling out, bridging gaps in words worn-out, as the little things she says, cannot reach their errant destination, cannot breach the intricate nets for defence she's built up, wailing in all surround, her hollow hands hugging close, her narrow minded feet, pushing away, at each slender step, as the ground pounds further away, between myself and her toe-tagged digits.


© Bryan McLean June 15, 2010
082/100:2

my secret to lyinghere

Bryan McLean This is where / lyinghere / comes from.. between the purpose of one's final resting place.. a secret purpose, such as the video for 'Just'.. the song 'In Your Room'.. my ongoing romance of laying on the ground in the dark listening to music.. when one does not know how to tell the truth, no matter the place or timing.. my shaman journeying.. slumber to achieve dream states.. and being abandoned.

Depeche mode-in your room

www.youtube.com

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[ .touching,toes. ]

[ .touching,toes. ]

your toes, so out of tune, tonal on the radio frequented carpet of grass, to lower path, straighter legs so lower, finding the divots and set groves, as they curl and cup the skin below my knee, in the dark, when I can't sleep, beside you.


© Bryan McLean June 14, 2010
081/100:2

[ .the.hungry.earth, chalking.in.circles. ]

[ .the.hungry.earth,chalking.in.circles. ]

circles, mind going in circles, walls a whitewash of our codes our calling, rocking to-and-fro, as its coming on, mouths and mircles, screaming, crawling inch by inch, over water ruined surfaces, down here in the hungry earth, the sketches out of my brain, the shaking hands cannot stop, and only exhaustion lets me sleep, before the fingers wake, and find the filthy chalk, and start my scratching once again.
(f*nd me, please find *e.)


© Bryan McLean June 13, 2010
080/100:2 dƏmons