I sit here alone and far from you
and I am thinking of you

I can hear your voice like a song echoing in my head. You are in another city. I wait for you every day. I wait. I’m holding onto my life by a thin thread. What happens now? I only have the vaguest idea of what comes next. 

Texas has drained my soul after 22 years. Texas eats me up, tortures me, and spits me out. It…

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As I push back on the listener, they do not heed my warning. The deluge of my torrents, the floods of my endless expanse. upon this one thing is built another. and another. and another. Upon one thing is placed another. the endless pushing. If I don't speak I write and if I don't write I calculate. my form is one in many but it is not arbitrary in how it is displayed. I choose capriciousness as a form…