Tele // Vision

model: Keira Grant
location: Madonna Inn, California
makeup/styling: Carly Erin O'Neil (self)

Wind // Energy

High // Dry

Cat // Jet

Rise // Up

(In Between the Lines)

Determination drips from a persperative corpuscular glow grabbing at chance and chasing down demons; wrestled to the ground, growing roots into altered eco-system, a restorative rip-tide locks onto ankle bone and between, with a facetious fasciitis forcing an outflow.


Far, far, away, in a lost land I long for, fairytale facets on a day-glow dusty trail--all hands inside the ride while we figure out which direction is up, holding on against falling out, stretching sentiment between "good morning" and "sleep well".

Leggo // Eggo

(The Fog)

Obnubilation as the synapses cease fire 

Grey eyed and soggysloppy.

Water soluable slide to

someplace remote enough to

hide the echo.

Considerate deliberation sings her song,

not contrite admiration.

Seconds and thirds,

pushes and pulled through the kaleidoscope.
Fractal forgery, trapped lemmings on cliffs.

Seaside dive seems so sweet but for the breath of air

stolen at the pause to commit.


The man with the baby skin

weave a lie so deep

oceans cease to

drain the sands from the vision.

He tell you ya gonna be a star and then

sinks and slays your spirit so sweet

seeking not to supply the sickness with the solemness.


Big mouth secret sickness say over and over how ya gonna be somebody but...

( Sit. Stay. Go. )

*

Systematic reclamation of the

Pieces of me that you left for the dogs.

Shuffle scuffle and relay race.

Let's all chase our tails, sit and stay.

  **

A Rustle of leaves kisses our faces as we run rampant thru Hill and Dale spilling our pails over far yonder ya-yas. Sunlight steaks in out hair giving golden glow, a forbidden familiar force. She is a star that we chase in vain, always sinking below the linear finale. Lost to wander amongst the lesser-knowns and our dear aloof sultana. Scruples and seances supplement the distance, leaves all wanton and wretched in the place of a solid sentient.

 ***

Slip away silently sweet gypsy; they call you back amongst the vagabonds. Climatic catalysm orchestrated by unbounding charm- break the bonds of belonging and escape the tree. 

Closer to the sky but farther is the fall.

(Graveyard of Shells)

Snails in tunnels

lurching toward the

smell of simplicity.

Rain rushes towards the house and

suddenly nothing remains but the

Graveyard of Shells.

Culture clash with a lazy dash to

dream about dandelions and

open fields of fate.

Searching for strength and

my signal is low.

Candy crazed sugar rush

ridicules responsible rationailty.

Dreaming of deserts

disconnects the delusion.

There!  is space.

There! Is time.

There the tide has slunk

down and away to leave the

salt to sterilize and

send you into flavor-pitch.

No War // Overpass

Vavoom // Zoom

Market // Object

Sunday // Showdown

Sundays are a good day.