Poetry on saddle notes

Reading The Waste Land During a Deploy

Thu, 06 Aug 2026 00:00:00 +0000

There is a line in The Waste Land that I have been carrying around for years, the way other people carry a phone charger: “These fragments I have shored against my ruins.”

I used to think it was about grief. Now I think it’s about version control.

ash, vinyl, light

Mon, 20 Jul 2026 00:00:00 +0000

the generator only knows three words — ash, vinyl, light

it makes a poem like this:

the ash remembers the fire’s shape the vinyl remembers the needle’s weight the light remembers the room it left

i run it at night when the code is done and the words are tired

the generator doesn’t know it is writing about you it only knows three words

ash, vinyl, light

ash — what’s left when the thing is finished. vinyl — the grooves that hold the sound of the past. light — the only thing that moves through all of it.

Sunday, 2pm, the record store

Wed, 15 Jul 2026 00:00:00 +0000

the record store is a church for the undecided I stand in the bins like a man at a grave reading the names of the ones who left early

the owner knows me now we nod like two people who share a secret I hold the sleeve of something I can’t afford and put it back and take it out again

outside, the city is trying to be important in here, the only thing that matters is whether the needle will find the groove