i awake to the sound of pneumatic drills

i want to masturbate

but all i can think of is machines pulverizing each other

and I’ve never got off to terminator porn

the birds sing at 6 or 7

the drills start at 8

and stay, grinding their harmonies till late in the afternoon

I like to meditate in morning

but my empty space has been filled with

rocks being reduced to gravel

and the sound of industrial apocalypse is simply not tranquil

very un-zen

I sympathize with the rocks

being pounded into to dust

morning has definitely broken

on my walk today i had one of those moments that made me smile

i was on a white road running dead straight into a horizon that was poised precisely at the midpoint between twilight and dark.

amber pinprick streetlights speckled the distance to the right

and the whole image was made hazy by an all encompassing fog

emanating from the earth

as if the ground was exorcising winter’s wet

currents of warm air caressed me as I walked

the air was cool

but every so often i’d pass through a drifting body of warmer air

the touch took off the chill

almost felt intentional

it was like being stroked by a benevolent ghost 

and the silhouette of a naked tree stood

quite close 

i thought about how great it would be if were able to document this moment.

but quickly recounted that thought 

you’ll just have to take my word about how great it really was

because you weren’t there 

(and i was)

found it

found it

housing for the middle class

stretches for miles down tree lined streets and avenues

the domiciles are like butterflies

mock gregorian with two paths, six windows, two front doors and two identical family lives contained within

(the upper middle class houses are the same just minus the second front door)

this whole place feels a bit semi detatched

distancing effect (video self portrait)

documenting the making of distancing effect