witch. medicine woman. crushed velvet and killer basslines.




The wasteland is for the noble, the intrepid. I will dress for the occasion in coat and keep an ear out for the thumping wind against highest peak.

At the party I kept taking to the halls. Slim kid in the laundry, the drunk dj, listening to These New Puritans and At The Drive In. At an angle the chap who bent over in front of me was Bob Dylan, which I'm sure was his point. A kid called Davie was called a portal of interdimensional love and he came up and introduced himself and gave me his hand. I am disappointed he did not kiss my hand, in retrospect, as it may have sent me back in time.

I roamed again, alone, to the yard, to the couch on the porch, somewhere between the dying sun of a rustic dream and the wilderness of suburbia with the drunk ones on the sidewalk.

It was a brief, quiet, happy existance under the cover of night. Slumped out back under the trees on a forgotten chair interpreting Dreams. Watching a spider sew its home.

Sleep came quick. Like a gunshot up close. Obliterating the day and the evening. I was adrift on tidal dreams, until morning.

redsweaterdream

front yard, before midday (high noon on another zone) and waiting for the powerlines to shake and the boys in black (like Kesher in Mul.Drive... that that that feeling) and they come up the road and take me away.

I fear and lament and await the day.

Blonde curls, and maybe (afterall) it will be a key in my hands, a bed of grass under my gentle hand, lifelines touching to the green, foretelling lush futures.

get the devil behind you, and he'll ride your back

Sweetheart

The clouds are low here today. Spreading over the city like a nightmare.

I've an Urge. Slide guitar trembling E minor, remembering itself as a passing semi.

I'm flickering like Caligari. Behind the skin. From Here to There.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I whisper low.. To the Places that know.


I walk the hallways of hotels



















and canyons

Kicking around like a ghost.

This is where I Am, today, Piece of my heart traveling well loved directions.

Hush.

This is A dirty secret in the wind. Like a whistle in a crystal glass. A breath through the brass bells hanging by a windowsill.

for a stranger

Dearest Runar,

I found a dead bird outside and brought it back to the ether-house where it rests on a small bed of leaves. Beside it I left a silver chain, and attached to it is a key. In the eye of the key is engraved EH and it is one of two for the house, until more Glass residents know.

My own key I have lost, since. If you find it please bring it back.

~ Zill


P:S I heard music in the distance. A calliope howl.

fire ghosts

Me, fire twirling, early January

.

thoughts and wavelengths

"I woke up as the sun was reddening; and that was the one distinct time in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didn't know who I was - I was far away from home, haunted and tired with travel, in a cheap hotel room I'd never seen, hearing the hiss of steam outside, and the creak of the old wood of the hotel, and footsteps upstairs, and all the sad sounds, and I looked at the cracked high ceiling and really didn't know who I was for about fifteen strange seconds. I wasn't scared; I was just somebody else, some stranger, and my whole life was a haunted life, the life of a ghost."



I want to visit this homestead






















I belong in this drawing.




















hotel loner








http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=h_m1p7TrQeA




xoxo