Electronics Paintings

if i could bloom like a marigold on a madman’s windowsill in the early autumn

and know that it was for you

that would be enough. 




chatting with fruit flies in the early morning

what are they really up to

so silently floating about. 




the painting fail


amongst the 


the pagans

the city falls 

the traders 

find the 

silk pearl 

roads and ropes

beyond some science fiction dream

the sad 


movie reels and digital props

the flesh 

borgish mania 

manic depressive 


pure and clean

the air 

the water

the earth 

the fire

the space. 


feeling both found and lost 

open and closed

decisive indecisive

this place that’s like a series of waves 


there its not the same face twice

no honor amongst the thieves 

the quiet humping of porn online

disrupts the evening light 


are you there in there really

some foreign star some other 

another other 


its not what you think

its not play 

keep going.