Blood of the Snail

The echo of the echo Is me Im despair of the vibrations we don't see Im the crumbling of the pillar The vagabond searching deep blue seas The sum of the nothing...that is me

That premise to me is actually a very powerful underlining statement to the braindead rhetorical question: "what is the world coming to" Well, I detest that rhetorical question because it's a generic response to humans being asked what they feel about societal pitfalls, and in truth the world is not coming to anything but it's own course based on scientific evolution in regards to just about everything or anything you can convey.  Humans are just fighting initial instinct...our instincts imo are the correct responses to every situation whether our ego allows us to follow through or not. Instinct is our human nature communicating to us and asking us to react. but we all fight it in hopes that we can make a change in our world by reacting differently to situations...reacting how we think others expect us to react instead of being ourselves.

A divorce for a woman....I can only think of 1 word and that's unfair. All I'm trying to do is get past the unevenness of it all. It wasn't my doing yet I'm expected to be crawling on my knees weeping and hidden away from the rest of the world. I am just what this situation made me to be, organically. I did not choose to be here but I am here and I just am like anyone else. Why does a divorce allow you to define  where I should be in life...right now or 10 yrs from now...isn't it so that no matter where we are it's because time brought us there

She layed there and inhaled silence, like something out of a Chagall painting...flowingly majestic, but still and ill formed. Almost perfect. Tiredly, she reached for a cigarette and placed a finger inside herself then threw the cigarette to the floor and grasped onto her pillow as she shut her eyes and thought of being felt and deeply understood and gotten on a level far beyond the pleasure of human touch. EV

Mechanical bird You sit alone Quite in fascination chirping oil can In my hand And sleep in contemplation Barren skies Floating land Lacks communication White clouds filling you... Killing you, mechanical bird Loveless words Pushing stray As you rust away An end to a perfect day. Wasting away. EV

Fideo, the way to your heart swirled away at a peculiar part of life that left me nestled Upon a stove that carries no flame No soup for the soul, oh please no, but a spoon and empty bowl Like lovers, grew cold As lovers Is lovers.. Fideo my lover yet nothing to hold A song without tune A bird without lark Sipping her through a bending fork And damndness so weak without any flavor Fide-oh my love, My heart, You took all my labor EV  

Refried Dreams He left me a cold plate of refried dreams He left me. His knuckles no longer crack in sudden dreary while I sleep. The shape of the moon is no longer the same And I melt at the sound of upside-down guitar strings. The dinner table holds candles and dust And there lies a plate of refried dreams Muddled and alone,  no longer bright My spice gets lost in the beans and rice of your life. EV