Genesis (I)

Oscar sat watching the blood red sun pull itself up above the Parisian rooftops. It trudged slowly over the chimneys and glowed against his bare shoulders. The small window was cracked ajar, and the warm summer air thickened the cold room. His forearms were stacked on top of each other on the window sill, a cigarette slowly burning away in his right hand. The room froze around the smoke which tailed away out the open window. He was just staring at the red glow of the Lucky Strike and the milky waterfall that was erupting from its open head. Light, burn, burn, burn.

"Could you go buy me some cigarettes?" she asked. "And some bread too, I'm so hungry."
"Yeah...yeah just a second." Depressed, Oscar sucked the last bit from his cigarette then dragged it across the floor of the ash tray. He sat, hunched over in the wrought-iron chair looking out on the morning skyline. It was a Saturday.

Oscar was a decently-built man - nothing that would impress, but he felt good about himself. He had thick brown hair and a defined cheekbone that complemented his five o'clock shadow nicely. Suits seemed to hug his figure well and he knew this, so he wore them everyday.

The sidewalks were empty at this hour in the morning. Avenue de la Grande Armée.........
Oscar always found something soothing, therapeutic even, about being entirely alone on these streets. In one hour, businessmen on scooters would weave between cars and the silly French sirens would howl out in battle cry. He still avoided sidewalk cracks, even sacrificing his looking like a decent human being - he carried that from childhood.

But today would be the day he died.

Love Magnolia

Sometimes, white like the Magnolia,
Love's brace will kiss your head.

Love --
It's the air in your mother's lungs.

Effervescence --
les aveugles rose de l'amour.


Sometimes you find it
amidst your own thoughts
in a weird dark place.

Bounty boom plentiful.
May we transcend our limitations,
our inhibitions and our associations.

Our childish ways and
scanty devotion to form.

Love --
It's the air in your mother's lungs.

A Jump Rightwards On

Rejoice! Men of fallow heart
Feel Apollo in their veins!
Eeriness be damned,


Don't speak through them.
Like boats stacked in Monte Carlo,
An ocean churns and froths


Unbeknownst to the many.
Alas! Infinite Jest resonates
like salts that sting their noses.


We lie in sheets that babble
around us like air in a vacuum.
Stasis; Paralysis of love.


A dynamic vie de la grâce,
is seen hovering above the surface
like foam on the great blue.


We hope the rain will fall,
Unrelenting in its prosperity.
Yet, we fear that what will remain


Will be no more than
A single drop.