Friday, July 22, 2011

The Archipelago Of Kisses by Jeffrey McDaniel

We live in a modern society.

Husbands and wives don't grow on trees, like in the old days.

So where does one find love?

When you're sixteen it's easy,

like being unleashed with a credit card

in a department store of kisses.

There's the first kiss.

The sloppy kiss. The peck.

The sympathy kiss.

The backseat smooch.

The 'we shouldn't be doing this' kiss.

The 'but your lips taste so good' kiss.

The 'bury me in an avalanche of tingles' kiss.

The 'I wish you'd quit smoking' kiss.

The 'I accept your apology, but you make me really mad

sometimes kiss'.

The 'I know your tongue like the back of my hand' kiss.

As you get older, kisses become scarce.

You'll be driving home and

see a damaged kiss on the side of the road,

with its purple thumb out.

If you were younger,

you'd pull over, slide open the mouth's

red door just to see how it fits.

Oh, where does one find love?

If you rub two glances, you get a smile.

Rub two smiles, you get a warm feeling.

Rub two warm feelings and presto-you have a kiss.

Now what?

Don't invite the kiss over

and answer the door in your underwear.

It'll get suspicious and stare at your toes.

Don't water the kiss with whiskey.

It'll turn bright pink and explode into a thousand luscious splinters,

but in the morning it'll be ashamed and sneak out of

your body without saying good-bye,

and you'll remember that kiss forever

by all the little cuts it left

on the inside of your mouth.

You must nurture the kiss.

Turn out the lights.

Notice how it illuminates the room.

Hold it to your chest

and wonder if the sand inside hourglasses

comes from a special beach.

Place it on the tongue's pillow,

then look up the first recorded kiss in an encyclopedia: beneath

a Babylonian olive tree in 1200 B.C.

But one kiss levitates above all the others.

The intersection of function and desire.

The 'I do' kiss.

The 'I'll love you through a brick wall' kiss.

Even when I'm dead, I'll swim through the Earth,

like a mermaid of the soil, just to be next to your bones.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Isn’t it ironic how we sometimes associate freedom with a place? Nowhere on Earth will I ever feel as hopeful as I feel here.

Sadly, this euphoria is not without its disadvantages. They don’t have AC/Heater here for the extreme temperatures. Not as small price to pay as many might think.

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