Posted by: Dustin Faulkner | March 3, 2009


Something is wrong, like more walls than room

Little eyes, little heart

A mirror without light

This is

Champagne bands outside bubble-wrapped cages

Invisible mistresses greeting opaque bones

Simple motions under covered mattresses


I sort of abandoned poetry for a long time. I thought, as a musician, why am I even bothering with this when I could be expanding on the idea musically instead of relying on mediocre prose.

That was a dumb thing to think. I think.


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