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:: Jeremiah D. Reeves ::
15, I Mean, 18 Hour Drive | A Double Translation: Out(side) West | A Dream - December 28, 2008 1:00PM | A Ghost of You | Attributes of Cool: A Penny for Your Thoughts | Bully | Cigarettes and Race | Ecstasy | Flying Kites Inside | Friends | Highway | July 7, 2007 1:14AM | June 6, 2010 | Listerine | Listerine (Part two) | Mark-Making | Morning Yearning | Mosquito | My World | Observing but Unnoticed | Post-Humorism | Prophecy | Real Fact | San Antonio | Seedy and Blue | Segment: 30 Day Chart - Self as Subject | Sitting on the Bottom of a Skillet | Super 8 Motel | The Ballet for a Crow performed for and by a Seagull | The Ostrich | The Shame of Hodge-Podge | These are pocket contents | Toilet Stall Scribble | When you were mine | XO
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Jeremiah D. Reeves
 

::03:18:09::

::: A Double Translation: Out(side) West :::

no.1
Out west again
egnar eht no emoh a
open-skies, blue
bright as chincy names
“Loveland”

“You need to speak to yourself in
your head.. it’s called
thought.”

I see the abuse in (part eht)
(.ega nac sserts woh)
your Native American
smile, as if you chewed
hardened corn – we hope
they would lodge themselves
between, in the gaps
et (.etelpmoc)

in the garage we gather
partaking in a collective
suicide, smoking (gnizeehw te)
(eb ot gnipoh) first,
to avoid typing (.yrautibo eht)

A stop sign, a tool box,
a drum set, 4000 dollars,
4 children, a mystery et
delusion, a dog’s name
no one can spell

Is there a game in this for you (gniyl)
(raeh dluoc ohw esoht ot)
(?tseb uoy) Could your intentions
Be deciphered second hand through
unstable minds? You live now in
state·ments of a bending mind,
one where horns sound long et
sharper, where logic is
anti·thetical to solace…in a
transcendent state of jig-jig sounds.
A house of door-slams, pennies
et control, struggles to own
itself in 1801 et 1802…in the
smile of an Indian-head-dress
cutting rope in search of a
savior et car parts humming
(sdnuos kcor).


no. 2
Outside towards the west
still open-skies,
luminous blue as names of chincy

“You must speak in your head. It’s called thought.”

In your native American smile,
as if you chewed hardened cereal –
gaps between and
in the garage we gather in
the first instance participating;
a collectivity, suicide
smoking for our arrest,
a cassette with:

the drum, 4000 dollars,
4 children, a mystery and disappointment.

Name the dog “Nobody”

Your intentions are used, deciphered.
Now live within declarations
of a folding mind, where the
horns play long and more cutting,
where logic is antithetic to solace…
in condition, in the
importance of the sounds of the mask-mask.
A house of hatch-blinks, pennies
and control, fights to own
itself in 1801 and 1802…
in the smile of the Indian-head-rope
(of “cut-to-the-search”)
dressed in parts of automobile
and that of the “i-n-g’s.”

Written by: ~ Jeremiah D. Reeves

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