Monday, January 5, 2009

reaching


i'm
without even
a game. cut

off.
my own
doing. now what.

2 comments:

William Keckler said...

the poem goes so perfectly with the art here.

they are both such light vectors of uncertainty.

but hovering nonetheless.

both in visual art
and in poetry
you create your
own language.

luminous idiolects are good things.

language is a cloud of knowing.

but i think there is a cloud of unknowing too.

i'm not sure which produces more things.

DEFENSIVE BUDDHA

the vine said.

i'm not trying to be all vatic and shit.

just precise.

Rachel said...

thank you and thank your vine, too.