Tumblebuns
snake-oil-lullaby:





Last week I shot a roll of film that I’d got free with a second hand camera. When I got back the scans I found out that the roll had already been used by the guy who gave me it and so I had double exposed it. By chance, both of us had taken a photo of a motorway landscape and this was made. His photo is from the inside of the car looking at countryside and my shot of an urban motorway is best seen on the left hand side.

This is fucking amazing

im speechless

MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE

Fucking Beautiful.

All the times I’ve breathed
are letters in words
of a book flipped ceaselessly
 towards the end.
Bible-thin pages
overlap with yours
a translucent meeting
of moments and minds.
My sunset to your sunrise.
Together spelling out
The end.

snake-oil-lullaby:

Last week I shot a roll of film that I’d got free with a second hand camera. When I got back the scans I found out that the roll had already been used by the guy who gave me it and so I had double exposed it. By chance, both of us had taken a photo of a motorway landscape and this was made. His photo is from the inside of the car looking at countryside and my shot of an urban motorway is best seen on the left hand side.

This is fucking amazing

im speechless

MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE

Fucking Beautiful.

All the times I’ve breathed

are letters in words

of a book flipped ceaselessly

towards the end.

Bible-thin pages

overlap with yours

a translucent meeting

of moments and minds.

My sunset to your sunrise.

Together spelling out

The end.

About High-stakes testing in inner-city schools and No Child Left Behind

They know some magic, I am sure

when they pour soft lead into tiny cups.

Always the right one, despite a sea

of never-ending circles, stretching

like a pock-marked road.

Wrong and it turns red.

Wrong and Mrs. Anazula

sighs, puts her hands on her desk.

“It’s alright, mi Pequeñita,

that’s why we take them every year,

to improve.”

But my magic runs out, and

the clock runs fast,

and everyone must stop.

There isn’t a finish line

because no one wins.

They just count up your cups

and frown and drive you to the next road

even when you’re not done.

We are here all day, but only

un momento for so many

words.

SallyrantothedoorbutJa

ckhadthekeytoherhouse.

Why would he do that?

I splash the lead

in a straight line down

the cups, like mamá

pouring shots.

O, please,

porfavor.

O please.