Contributors * more photos to appear soon

Contributors * more photos to appear soon
Christy Namee Eriksen, kim thompson, Jon Schill

Thursday, December 22, 2011


catching up on the latest "gossip"
from back home
-- home being whatever that may mean
no indicator of the actual place grown up...

interlaced with a lot of
"oh my fuckin' god are you kidding me!"s
(a lot of gods got fucked in that conversation)

realizing maybe life here
isnt so bad
hearing the ridiculousness back there
-- my choices being just that
- mine -
and i got let go of just in time
-- salvation beginning in the first act of saying
"this has been let go of
now let go of me"
(not that heart stringed attachments are bad
knotted strings
only trip me up)

and im supposed to drop the "i"
to evolve
but what else can "i" speak of
with some form of actual
certain knowing
when in truth even knowing "i"
can be
perplexing to
my own

to try to unravel
my "i"
only winds my eyes
into a blur
-- better
i begin to think
-- to just let be.
--- followed by a string of cliches on
the key of b

... like how
im not waiting for you
but im not closing any doors
"i"m gonna let this space
fill itself"
and like how...
that seeming act of letting you in
was a door closing
as "i" filled the space
my own past repeated habit
-- im sorry that sounds so unkind
... this is how honesty can be.
(its nothing personal
its not "you"
its that theres this "you"
and that is the "you"
that my "i" is looking towards
all the while knowing
it could be that this is how
my eye[s] must look in
order to see

and they say half the key to cool
is not admitting anything
-- so lets say that for most of my life
ive been frozen
and now im done with cold
and prefer the heat of just saying
even though the lack of certainty
makes my eye sweat salt.
(but im still done with palm trees
and the hurricanes of late summer)

and theres a cigarette stuck to my lips
and im supposed to be considering quitting
ive never been good at quitting what i love
one day when i cease to love
i will let the filter fall butt end to the floor
for good
and sweep away the ashes of this form of love
but for now
we remain synonyms...

and its still early in the day
but the sun has turned its winter
we spin on its axis.

and all the darkness of yesterday
(did the sun even ever rise?)
my eyes sank deeply into
too dehydrated to shed tears
so eye just dribbled salt
from the side

and "i"
dont expect
a thing from any "you"
but that does not change
what the

and all this news from that place
that once was home
where they misname a patch of lake sand
not knowing of the tepid heat of the atlantic
as my "i" does...

how they still preen
too old
for not having let go of any "i"
they speak buddha out their ashen-ed butts
and cling cling cling
so tightly
that was never
theirs to
thats not how
is meant to work

but then
who am "i"
to cast my eye(s) downward in their direction
prove to my own self
time and time again
caught up in proving nothing/something to my "me"
ruins all this unwinding
that is being done

fists opened
palm lines
shifting in new directions

just when "i" thought
were gone
you returned
with flowers

and so today
for the "you"
who has been with "me"
since the beginning
and the "you"
who let go when "i" needed
and the "you"
who does not want to be a "you"
(but then maybe "you" do)
and the "you"
who wants to be a "you"
(but then maybe "you" dont)
and the me
who wants an

... i think of over there
and right now here
pick up another smoke
let the words drop where they may
though it is now
the shortest day
it feels like
the beginning
of this
that ive been waiting looking for
and in the throwing up of surrendered
in the utter loathing
of what "i" can do
(its not that it was that bad or wrong
its just that "i" know that "i" am better
than such doings
and my eye does not like cheap)
in looking towards "you"


kim thompson. thursday 22 dec 11 18.09 seoul. s. korea

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