the revolution of everyday life

098



there was an indescribable sadness in realizing
that after having opened a door and stepped
through it, one inevitably pulled it closed again.

.

097



having accepted death
he was free of premonitions

now if only he could avoid
stumbling over the usual clichés


.

096



though the inadvertent mumbling and gibberish often annoyed others,
he would continue in his attempts to sculpt air into something formless

.

095



stepping outside of himself
he felt more enclosed than ever

.

094



returning home he pulled up to the house and parked the truck. but
before getting out he glanced at the odometer — so many miles for
one who never moved.

.

093



one could never be sure
if the erosion was in oneself
or the world

though knowing
wouldn't change anything
anyway

.

092



it only ever got
as dark as the light

.

091



he wrote a little note
to remind himself
that he was not there

.

090



distances were no longer measured
by any objective standard
but rather according to
vague degrees of concern

.

089



he listened intently to the sun
turned all his faces
toward its echoes

.

088



to plunge as deep as possible
he would float lightly
on the surface

.

087



he held his empty cup
with a certain gentleness and care
to avoid spilling what it didn't contain

.

086



first attempt
to the road: 57 steps
from the road: 58 steps

second attempt
to the road: 55 steps
from the road: 53 steps

performing such experiments
he hoped to glean some insight
however slight
but inevitably wound up
just as ignorant as when he began

.

085



as the temperature plummeted
he was still holding out
though he no longer knew
against whom or what

.

084



the visible
was merely evidence
of a refusal

.

083



even among things
he remained teetering
on the edge of the formless

.

082



flushing the toilet the sound of the swirling water increased to a
deafening roar which continued to resound long after the bowl had
been refilled and the water stopped flowing.

in fact, that afternoon, as he walked far into the silence of the woods,
the roar only seemed to further swell.

and later, when he lay down for the night, the relentless wail still did
not recede.

the next morning, however, he awoke to an equally deafening silence
from which he could not plug his ears.

.

081



having abandoned himself
all that was left
was vegetal and withered

.

080



the first attempt almost
always turns up nothing

so already successful
why insist on fouling it up?

.

079



for any line
written or drawn
more important than the pencil
was the eraser

.

078



tethered to a cloud
he only appeared
to be adrift

.

077



the sight of blood was no cause for alarm
actually he welcomed such signs of life

.

076



from where he stood it became clear
that though undoubtedly vast
the sky was by no means infinite

.

075



the future was of no concern
it is the past which is fraught with peril

.

074



he was constantly on the lookout for devils
any angels were on their own

.

073



it would appear that many write
in order to remember
he however wrote to forget

.

072



putting on layer upon layer
bundling up
denying all the while
that it was the frost within
which was the cause of the chill

.

071



reaching out his hand
he could sense a beyond
but then all one had to do
was take a step...

.

070



hanging up the phone
it finally dawned on him
that his was not a love for
but against

.

069



still now
yes — still now

.

068



when pushed he was tempted to speak
of a mineral self -- both crystal and erosion

.

067



far too often people confused the living and the dead

.

066



stripped bare
he lay down and waited
for time to wash away
what little remained

.

Just so you know...

all images and text © Michael Tweed