Whats happening with this blog?

I'm not sure how you found yourself here.
but now that you are, let me explain.

you might have noticed everything here is old.

I no longer publish work here,
not because I dont make work anymore,
but because I have found better outlets for my material.

Physical outlets such as books, and exhibitions.

The blog will remain online as an archive of my work and its distribution of its period.

If you are actually interested in my ongoing work.
message me
djpyle93@gmail.com

thanks to everyone who has found themselves here in past years.

Dream

I was at the party
the kind of place
you have to be then and there

In the middle of the party
you were there too
on a couch watching TV outside in the thick of it all

The next afternoon
I spent with the lads
bumming cigarettes off each other front of the corporate plaza

The gates were to close
when all the offices shut for the weekend
and none of us fancied staying there for that long

5pm happens
and I get caught up in dispersion
I find myself in a group and you were there too

we carry a bed frame
to a train station
and wait with all the business men as it gets dark

In the gloom a train arrives
we have to hold the bed frame in between carriages
because it wont fit otherwise

The train travels across a bridge
and on the other side it slowly halts
we and the bed frame disembark in vacant surroundings

the only thing immediate is an adjacent train line
and on it waits a handcart
the bed frame is loaded on and pushed along the line into the bush

The next morning I wake
on a couch
at the hut we were headed

I am confused
I don't remember getting here
I get up and look around

the first room on the right
has its space almost entirely consumed
by a massive bed and you are there too

I lie down
sore from the couch
and you explain to me this is where we were headed

I know that
but I still don't recall
I'm not bothered though because at least now I have a bed

Rehab

Deaf

I remember when
I ate feta cheese
at your house
in the morning
and now
my relationship with goat produce
is nostalgic.

I remember when
I stood in a garage
filled with smoke
and bad karaoke
and now
I only want to hear sing the wrong words
to the songs I barely know.

I remember when
I slept in your bed with two more
because the hard wood floors
were unenticing
and now
I sleep
alone

I remember when
we spoke for an hour
about your mother
outside the bar
and now
I drink
at home

I remember when you turned you back on the loud to embrace the lonely boy
I remember when everyone left the room and we did not give ourselves a reason to

I remember when I used to write poems
and now
there comes a time that
they are irrelevant
and now
there is nothing else
and now
there is nothing else
left
and now there is nothing else
left
to do

~~~

Unclean

It was 15
to get
in
and 8
to stay
to drink
I think
This place has changed.

I was clean
and it was hard
I was clean
and it was hard
I was clean
and it was hard
this place has me
good.

Holiday Blues