photographed by evan eisenstadt //
http://evaneisenstadt.com
she dances like fire
a flickering flame,
never big
or put out the same.
her dance follows music
music played of sight
like a number of birds perched,
on a set of 5 powerlines.
if ever she could
have uncrossed our stars,
she wouldn’t have done it the same.
she longs and she aches
for longing and aching..
goodbye, my annabel lee.
x x
-V
dc/ac
direct the current,
or alternate it.
a hello to be edited,
conversation- audited.
yeah ’cause-deception lay
in disappointment bay
worse than your maker,
handed it to your re-creator.
Always be the third,
In a sequence of evens.
Hello ego no. large,
Should we tango?
x x
-V
deserted.
jupiter, jupiter
woops, no woops.
If only you could have,
said no and turned away,
-gotten off shore,
without leaving single sun ray?
no legitimacy.
intimacy.
You’ve gotten too tangled,
now to animal forms,
you’re forever wain-ing in the sky,
a trophy that outperforms.
x x
V
cobalt | home
Hold her in the dark
with a lightened sense of
Reality.
2 minutess pass of eternal
blindness lead by
Her eyes in the dimmed
light of heart.
2 more minutess and she
hears her soul, through
Infinite comprehension
Her touch, she touches
And reveals her sufferance.
2 more minutes into
the most intense
romance and she realizes
she must let go.
but she won’t
So kick and fool she but it’s
her heart that her tries
To fool.
2 more minutes resists
her succeeds, her heart fooled
by her own mislead ambitions.
7 remaining minutes only memories
Remain.she can‘t let go
Fool x 2 match made.
xx
-v
san francisco pier
Grab the incense,
a wick ready to burn,
she just wants to feed those who need
before they starve to urn.
The bucket carries more
than hydration,
try again for the next won,
get your salvation.
Nourishment we taste in
is our cunning wit.
It throws us and loathes us,
until we say fetch, rollover, sit.
Release your inner in sense,
with a burn and a lick,
8 months and four minutes,
her goal is to love me sick.
Recall the water carrier,
she loves her touch,
not controlling.
xx
-V
empty can
There are good days
and there are bad days
That is fact.
But then there are days
of daze.
Not good, nor bad.
No feeling,
you could’ve had.
No distinction,
no emotion,
nor memory,
of conviction.
No pardon,
no thanks,
nor successes,
in ranks.
No heart,
no desire,
nor disgust,
in perspire.
Those numb daze…
are no good.
nor bad.
They’re dangerous,
disinterest clad.
xx
-V
man up | work
I am your whore.
I was your whore,
I asked to be,
I do for pay,
you know that’s me.
I love success,
I love the praise.
I have the talents,
you have the raise.
I let go a little,
was not my corner.
I withdrew a little,
she was warmer.
But I am back,
you best be ready.
Back at work,
workaholics UNIT-E-D.
-an ode to work.
xx
v
It’s been 2 months.
but it’s plain to see,
the life I made,
thunder STUCK me.
Been writing, been loving,
been working to deaths,
been life-ing and living,
been catching her breaths.
Here’s a dabble into life presently:
The water, she trickles deep,
in her eardrums.
The animals, they whimper,
much louder than hums.
The birds they sing,
The forest, it grows.
The people, they stare,
Yet, less friends than foes.
Disappear promptly into 3 cities,
no specifics, no word,
just jump realities.
Suburbia allows for distorted growth,
Breathe in the air,
take therapeutic oath.
The water, she disrupts,
her trickling best.
The animals, they break,
the blood pump in chest.
the birds, they mock,
the forest it haunts,
The people, they talk,
Yet, my life here is on lock.
xx
-V
mission dolores | san francisco | bay area
She spotted the queen,
she saw her real.
In half sun,
with lungs of steel.
Walk Real down the streets,
filled tight.
With everybody you know,
in sight.
Ain’t nobody want to,
do you wrong.
But the grrl you wanna see,
ain’t in this song.
She’s messin’ with the whales,
she’s messin’ insane.
She’s got nobody else,
in absolute reign.
She knows she’s right,
in her own regard.
There will not be a happy,
ending on the bard.
xx
-v
wasteface.
blondey.
She will not let you break her heart,
but bruising, tearing,
you did rip apart.
She will not let you play with her,
but pick you last,
for minimal stir.
She will not let you eat her soul,
but wants to lose weight,
so grab a bowl.
She will not let you in her mind,
but inhaled her whispers,
her sanity away, she signed.
You’re scare, she knows,
she’s black n blue,
just cut your shit,
she knows your show.
xx
-V
take me back to chelsea piers.
I never wanted to say it,
but it’s time for a change,
I never wanted to do it,
but it’ll be out of my range.
The action upon which,
the push comes to shove,
will outlive your patience,
and reclaim the fingers of a glove.
The desire within which,
is held dearest to your feed,
will be out-shined and re-shined,
far past the power of need.
The time during which,
it’ll take you to realize,
you’re not too vain,
this is about you –no need to philosophize.
xx
-v
Live in the movement,
the movement of sounds.
Listen to chatter, shatter,
with cocked and pulled, many rounds.
Watched them paddle their lives,
in the rough.
With finite dreams,
packed with banker’s boxes of stupid stuff.
Help them melt in the hudson’s breeze,
with judgement and rotations,
monocles steeze.
Witness the empowerment,
her lifestyle mistaken by freedom.
They’re lying, you‘re lying,
from seed to me-dom.
interactive piece – MoMa manhattan.
xx
-v
There was a run-over vinyl,
that summed up the night,
one filled with tall boys,
and tall bois, and loser ones wanting to fight.
There was a paper airplane,
that carried his dream,
at 45 degrees he was at full tilt,
and full tilt, she shared, fuck issues of self- EST-team.
Good morning, good afternoon,
no goodbyes, but a definite good night,
I later, was told there were fireworks,
who needs fireworks..? When you’re grasping thunder as light.
(_ x _ _ _ o _ _ i n a i r _)
billy joel | the stranger | nineteen seventy seven
xx
-V
long sleeves and protection galore,
they get through and bite her more.
the challenge is infectious,
the victim: pretentious.
soak in vinegar, don’t brush, but do toothpaste,
cold water, warm water, antihistamine erased.
…
jack n dryl.
xx
-V
gassy jack,
rooftop talks.
howe sound beer,
wobbly walks.
hazy sky,
summer nights.
camera eyes,
tourist fights.
gain a light,
van city history.
does she play for this team?
…residue mystery.
it’s actually electric.
xx
-V
expl-OH-red.
I went to UBC today, ended up on a rocky beach
I drew a hand peace sign on a tower– I challenge you to go find it, you’ll know it was me, figure it out.
Then we walked a couple hours, got to spanish banks.. ended up on west 4th. I love my city, I love this world. I brought rocks home, I really did.
the downer.
bus issues- because people wouldn’t get off/wait for the next… well, we did and ended up getting on another bus that outdrove the busy one–good karma, gud kARM-a.
Skytrain was great, always is– my only boyfriend…just kidding, jd is my main man.
Then the shuttle bus left early and b-line did too.
so I didn’t get to cuddle.
I still love my city.
Go find my peace.
I left it for you-go south west, find the neh-ked ones.
xx
-v
the necessary condition 