Wandering Through and Through: Journal of a MadMan

the Cold Seas:

he wasn't pleased with me then, and nobody was. i couldn't harness the winds as he had instructed, too hard, too fast.
the ship is foreign to me, wood that i have not been acquainted with for long, the shape of which disturbs me. i don't believe that i have ever been equipped to hold down in the gales, gales gales. i know one thing, and i have been swimming for so long, so long, and if i just float here i don't know what will become of me. i dive in. i no longer have the oxygen, i only sink. i only sink. i only think of shores, and where did my captain get off to?

Flower in the Glen:

he is like that
will wait for you and keep
those chocolate eyes abundantly aware of their mysterious sway.
over you, over there. where he waits, there are the sweetest breezes.
Scent-uality breeds triple-fold with him
and he passes by
hits you like a touch
Omber Rose, like Omber Rose
he is and he does
like Omber Rose, said
Omber Rose. taste and when you thought he'd gone, you know it keeps
that is seeps
but he is like that
remembers all the soft spots, every place you warm to. likes to brush his lips on yours.
he is like that.
hits you like a touch.

Orchard Lovelies:

stop at every tree. i don't like the taste of bitter last-seasons, please.
"look at me, look at me boy, don't you see? don't you try to learn?"
i am i am a product of.......
"you are just as you are. you are not my son, you are from somewhere far off, that I can't see to, that I can't rely on, but you, you are just as you are."
i am just beginning to click to this. am not entirely sure, and i crafted my own noose last afternoon.
"look at me boy, don't you see? you are, you are beautiful-abandoned. the work's not done, the hive ain't finished, your pollen is falling away. pick it up, just pick it up."
crafted my own noose last afternoon.
i am i am without memory.