levinskyleo.bsky.social
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levinskyleo.bsky.social
levinskyleo.bsky.social
@levinskyleo.bsky.social
190 followers 770 following 160 posts
This machine vibrates the air that touches your skin

https://levinskyleo.bandcamp.com/
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levinskyleo.bsky.social
Lines/revisions from today
And there were no other doors but that’s not a thought he had Since he was not a narration any longer Only the feeling the long smooth walls were closer to his skin than his own skin A twist in his gut like someone you’ve never met standing too close It might have been hours And finally But the end was just more wall And when he turned around he faced a man His face and his face in a picture pinned to his chest Standing so close but he appeared not to be someone unpermisable So close the man’s breath winded his mouth With the smell of stale luncheon meat and tobacco He has questions The evaluation’s functionary He has questions but doesn’t pause for answers His eyes shifting back and forth between each eye He has questions Tell me your greatest personal failings Tell me which of your qualities make you most like a god Have you now or have you ever lusted
February 11, 2026 at 12:30 PM
levinskyleo.bsky.social
some lines and revisions from this early am
Desperately clung to the inconsequences of their dramatic localized appeals Hiding themselves in the curtains of her tenuous authority with petitions in search of her redress to make justice and kiss the wounds And of the one silent and illusive The father He was as ever invisibly at watch His aftershave linger all day in the air The threatening pound of a car door clunk When daddy gets home The house and its creatures and its swarm of mechanisms and devices Tasking her Ringing and rattling her Warning the boundaries of desire and distaste in song and jingle and loud black ink
February 5, 2026 at 10:51 AM
levinskyleo.bsky.social
some lines and revisions from today
With marks of question unredactably punctuating her face Worn down by erasure after erasure Of the careful notes she took in the margins Scrubbed from the edges of his blank paged book Till the questions she had ceased asking broke into jagged brittle pink bits of her that scattered the creamy carpet shags But still even there interrogations Roused her in the quiet center of night Harassed her in the bright refractive days The house and its creatures and their wantings Small sticky hands shrieking loud mouths twisted Tore and bit and sucked
January 31, 2026 at 3:17 PM
levinskyleo.bsky.social
here’s a little leonard cohen for you
leonard cohen wearing a beret and turtleneck
January 29, 2026 at 1:22 AM
levinskyleo.bsky.social
more revisions. this is really a ridiculous project but i will keep going

i’ve given myself a lot of constraints, trying to anchor things around 10 syllables lines, no punctuation, no stanzas

it’s hard to keep the flow going without reusing overly repeating sentence patterns and rhythms
Down cul-de-sacs and lanes with the other pale faces Ceaseless travelers in perpetual return With jawlines darkened by emergent hair returning like Sunday mowed blades of grass Squared in by low white fences in front of a house where she waited With marks of question unredactably punctuating her face Worn down by erasure after erasure Of the careful notes she took in the margins Scrubbing the edges of his blank paged book Till the questions she had ceased asking broke into jagged brittle pink bits of her that scattered the creamy carpet shags But even there she was never alone The house and its creatures always found her Roused her in the quiet center of night Harassed her in the bright refractive days With sticky hands and shrieking loud mouths That twisted and tore and bit and sucked Trampled and stomped and cried and accuse
January 28, 2026 at 1:43 PM
levinskyleo.bsky.social
today’s lines and revisions

Been stuck on this section for a bit but it’s getting there
Roads yet pummeled by ragged winters shifting ice heave hoeing dirt and rock under the compressed and polished black glideways Harnessed by precise white and yellow strips of paint and grassy mounds between opposite streams of traffic Past the steepled church like a staid wedding cake The lit up baseball diamond Down cul-de-sacs and lanes with the other pale faces Ceaseless travelers in perpetual return With jawlines darkened by emergent hair returning like Sunday mowed blades of grass Squared in by low white fences in front of a house where she waited With marks of question unredactably punctuating her pink face Her eraser worn down by erasure after erasure of the careful notes she took in the margins Scrubbing the edges of his blank paged book Till the questions she had ceased asking broke Into jagged brittle pink bits of her that scattered the creamy carpet shags But even there she was never alone The house and its creatures always found her Roused her in the quiet center of night Harassed her in the bright refracting days With sticky hands and shrieking loud mouths That twisted and tore and bit and sucked
January 27, 2026 at 11:34 AM
levinskyleo.bsky.social
bits and bobs line by line
Past the steepled church like a staid wedding cake The lit up baseball diamond Down cul-de-sacs and lanes with the other pale faces Ceaseless travelers in perpetual return Darkened by newborn hairs crawling their jaws and lips Climbing blades of sunday mowed grass returning To the new house where she waited With unredactable question marks punctuated on her face Nub of an eraser stub worn down by his book of blank pages Until she stopped asking to read them And jagged brittle pink bits of her scattered The thick pearl colored carpets Where even there the asks of her did not relent from rousing her in the quiet center of night With sticky hands and shrieking loud mouths That twisted and tore and bit and sucked Trampled and stomped and cried and accused
January 23, 2026 at 2:00 PM
levinskyleo.bsky.social
bit by bit

today’s lines and revisions
Along smooth asphalt unblemished yet by the ritual processions speeding through the once forested hills On their way to sterile monasteries And gridded office parks indifferent to any ornament Roads yet pummelled by ragged winters shifting ice heave hoeing dirt and rock under the compressed and polished black glideways Harnessed by precise white and yellow strips of paint and grassy mounds between opposing streams of traffic Past the steepled church like a staid wedding cake The lit up baseball diamond Down cul-de-sacs and lanes with the other pale faces Ceaseless travelers in perpetual return Darkened by newborn hairs crawling their jaws and lips Climbing blades of sunday mowed grass returning To the new house where she waited With unredactable question marks punctuating her face Nub of an eraser stub worn down by his book of blank pages Until she stopped asking to read them And jagged brittle pink bits of her scattered The thick pearl colored carpets Where even there the asks of her did not relent from rousing her in the quiet center of night With sticky hands and shrieking loud mouths That twisted and tore and bit and sucked Trampled and stomped and cried and accused
January 22, 2026 at 12:42 PM
levinskyleo.bsky.social
unsurely but slowly

lines / revisions
Rousing her even in the quiet center of night With their with incessant urgencies The house and its creatures With their sticky hands and shrieking loud mouths That twisted and tore and bit and sucked Trampled and stomped and cried and accused Desperately clung to inconsequence and the sting of sibling slight Calling to her remedial authority So she could enact justice and kiss the wounds And of the one silent and illusive The father He was as ever invisibly at watch His aftershave linger all day in the air The threatening pound of a car door clunk When daddy gets home The house and its creatures and their comforts The house and its creatures in a storm of devices Asking her with high strung rings and rattles Whirs and clicks and hums They flamed and laundered and stirred and mixed and beat Spoke and sung the laws of desire and distaste She was servant to their bells and jingles There was no safety from its interruptions Never alone never true quiet Even when she had finally loosed them all from the newly painted white door behind the crisp lawn The children swallowed up by the yellow bus And the man who was a stranger motored away to do things he wouldn’t say
January 21, 2026 at 1:25 PM
levinskyleo.bsky.social
lines and revisions
Rousing her in the quiet center of night with their with incessant urgencies The house and its creatures With their sticky hands and shrieking loud mouths That twisted and tore and bit and sucked Trampled and stomped and cried and accused Desperately clung to inconsequence and the sting of sibling slights Calling to her remedial authority So she could enact justice Kiss the wounds And of the one silent and illusive The father He was as ever invisibly at watch His aftershave linger all day in the air The threatening pound of a car door clunk When daddy gets home The house and its creatures and their comforts The house and its creatures in a storm of devices Asking her with high strung rings and rattles Whirs and clicks and hums They flamed and laundered and stirred and mixed and beat Spoke and sung the laws of desire and distaste She was servant to their bells and jingles There was no safety from its interruptions Never alone never true quiet Even when she had finally loosed them all from the newly painted white door behind the crisp lawn The children swallowed up by the yellow bus And the man who was a stranger motored away to do things he couldn't say The phone continued its demands His mother calling His sister calling The rotary club
January 20, 2026 at 2:09 PM
levinskyleo.bsky.social
lines and revisions from today
And all the while between their lips the man who listened Who felt a rush of heat and disgust at their grunting crescendos A stranger who vibrated with each filament of their tangled intertwining currents Perched in the core of his menagerie as he monitored the secret thresholds Of the states porous emotional borders Until his shift was up And it was time to return home Harnessed by precise white and yellow strips of paint and grassy mounds between opposing streams of traffic Along smooth asphalt unblemished yet by the seasons of ritual processions to sterile monasteries Ragged winter ice and the heave hoeing dirt and rock underneath the compressed and polished black glide-ways Past the sharp steepled church like a staid wedding cake The lit–up baseball diamond In a perpetual returning home Down the cul-de-sac with the other blank faces darkened by incremental hairs crawl of shadow over the hours of the day Returning to the new house where she waited With question marks on her face he could never redact Still His blank page of a face had worn her down to a nubby stub of eraser Jagged and brittle Flaking bits of her scattered across the pale carpet and walls She stopped asking
January 18, 2026 at 11:17 AM
levinskyleo.bsky.social
rolling out the dough
Swirling in red and brown pirouettes Splayed across lawns and suffocating the gutters Spinning and turning Falling falling falling And always between their lips the man who listened Who felt a rush of heat and disgust at their grunting crescendos A stranger who vibrated with each filament of their tangled intertwining currents Perched in the core of his menagerie as he monitored the secret thresholds Of the porous and emotional borders erected by the state Until his shift was up And it was time to return home Along polished black roads with neat yellow lines and grass mounds between opposing streams of traffic Past the sharp steepled church like a staid wedding cake The lit–up baseball diamond To the new house where she waited With question marks on her face he could never redact Still His blank page of a face had worn her down To a nubby stub of eraser Jagged and brittle Flaking bits of her scattered across the white carpet and walls She stopped asking About his work his day his thoughts Even though for her the needs and demands of the house were constant with unrelenting interrogations Rousing her even in the quiet center of night with their with incessant urgencies The house and its people
January 17, 2026 at 12:52 PM
levinskyleo.bsky.social
Today’s lines and revisions
Perched in the core of his menagerie as he monitored secret thresholds in protection of the emotional borders erected by the state Until his shift was up And it was time to return home Along polished black roads with neat yellow lines and grass mounds between opposing glides of traffic Past the sharp steepled church like a staid wedding cake The lit–up baseball diamond To the new house where she waited With question marks on her face he could never redact Still His blank page of a face had worn her down To a nubby stub of eraser Jagged and brittle Flaking bits of her scattered across the white carpet and walls She stopped asking About his work his day his thoughts Even though for her the needs and demands of the house were constant Its unrelenting interrogations Rousing her even in the quiet center of night with their with incessant urgencies The house and its people And its devices tight high–string rings and rattles
January 16, 2026 at 12:00 PM
levinskyleo.bsky.social
Today’s lines and revisions
Swirling in red and brown pirouettes Splayed across lawns and gliding along the gutters Spinning and turning Falling falling falling And always between their lips the man who listened Who felt a rush of heat and disgust at their grunting crescendos A stranger who knew each increment of their daily transactions Perched in the core of his menagerie as he monitored secret thresholds guarding the emotional borders of the state Until his shift was up And it was time to return home Along polished black roads with neat yellow lines and grass mounds between opposing glides of traffic Past the sharp steepled church like a staid wedding cake The lit–up baseball diamond To the new house where she waited with question marks on her face he could never redact But he’d worn her down to a nubby stub of an eraser Ragged and stained Flaking bits of her scattered across white paper And so she had stopped asking About his work about his feelings about his day Even though for her the demands of the house
January 15, 2026 at 2:04 PM
levinskyleo.bsky.social
today’s lines and revisions. I think I’ll be working on this section for a bit
the leaves capitulated Swirling in red and brown pirouettes Lining lawns and gutters Spinning and turning Falling falling falling And always between their lips the man who listened Who felt a rush of heat and disgust at their grunting crescendos A stranger who knew the tiny increments of their daily phenomena As he perched in the center of his menagerie Monitoring thresholds of secret transactions Guarding the emotional boundaries of the state and its pure godly defenders Silent hub spinning out across a net of connections and coincidentals Until his shift was up And it was time to return home Along polished black roads with neat yellow lines and grass medians Past the sharp steepled church like a staid wedding cake The lit–up baseball diamond To the new house where she waited with question marks on her face he could never redact But she had stopped asking Although demand was a constant from the house the unrelenting interrogations of its inhabitants which found her even in the quiet center of night With their incessant urgencies The house and its devices tight high–string rings and rattles Important business There was no safety from its interruptions Even when she had finally loosed them all from the newly painted white door behind the crisp lawn in the newly paved roads The children swallowed up by the yellow bus And the man who still treated her like a stranger motored away to do things he couldn’t mention In nondescript buildings It was there with her ready to pounce
January 13, 2026 at 12:57 PM
levinskyleo.bsky.social
Today’s lines and revisions
Past the sharp steepled church like a staid wedding cake The lit–up baseball diamond To The new house where she waited with question marks in her eyes he could never redact But she had stopped asking Even though she was in constant demand Smothered by unrelenting familial interrogations The demands of the house and its people Which Found her even in the quiet center of night With their urgencies Even her husband who was still a stranger Now urgent tight rings and rattles that required response Important business There was no safety from its interruptions Even when she had finally loosed them all from the newly painted white door behind the crisp lawn in the newly paved roads The children swallowed up by the yellow bus And the man who still treated her like a stranger motored away to do things he couldn’t mention In nondescript buildings It was there with her ready to pounce His mother calling
January 12, 2026 at 12:25 PM
levinskyleo.bsky.social
Today’s lines and revisions
the leaves capitulated Falling in red and brown swirls Lining lawns and gutters Spinning and turning Falling falling falling And always with them the man who listened Who felt a rush of heat and disgust at their grunting crescendos A stranger who knew the tiny nothings of their daily phenomena As he perched in the center of his menagerie Monitoring the thresholds of their secret transactions Guarding the emotional boundaries of the state and its pure godly defenders Silent hub spinning out across a net of connections and coincidentals Until his shift was up and it was time to return to his nest Along polished black roads with neat yellow lines The sharp steepled church like a staid wedding cake across from the lit–up baseball diamond The new house where she waited with question marks he could never redact But she had stopped asking Even though she was a creature in constant demand Smothered by unrelenting familial interrogations The demands of the house and its people Found her even in the quiet center of night With their urgencies Even her husband who was still a stranger Now urgent tight rings and rattles that required response Important business There was no safety from its interruptions Even when she had finally loosed them all
January 11, 2026 at 2:01 PM
levinskyleo.bsky.social
today’s lines and revisions
Pen to paper and later the metal hammer of keys stamping papers forever marked secret and confidential Their voices climbed the sweaty summer walls And what happened to the boy? Oh who knows what ever happens I have to go I love you I love you I love you don’t go I have to go you fool When can I see you I don’t know I don’t know later Its always later with you how many laters do we have But they had their laters Strolling amongst humid monuments Stealing glances among all the old faces hung up on plaster Encrusted in oil and framed in gold Old fading books and promises imprisoned behind glass Jaw lines and hips teased from marble Hallowed spaces left desolate just for them Or so it felt Coffee counter breakfasts just one more cup Before long days apart filling the ceaseless needs of their bureaus Up to now lives that felt weightless but that summer was so heavy Like the air would burst at any moment Everyone’s eyes on everyone else’s Endless burials of paperwork Outside sirens swelled in phosphorescent mists as the crowds urged onward to the whops of walloped flesh pounded like meat The scuffle and grunting of angry bodies pinned against each other Bricks and rocks traveling high arcs before clunking off metal Screams and songs and jeers and heartbreak Choruses of shattering glass and scraping metal canisters skidding like a tangled orchestra In their offices the documents oozed out of the very walls Continuing their demands And each afternoon as thunder clouds spilled
January 10, 2026 at 1:09 PM
levinskyleo.bsky.social
today’s lines/revisions
Crushing anything pure to packaged slurry With all the newest techniques No They let the towers of memoranda fall Their desks weighted to the breaking point with reams of murderous numbers A tiny local pause in the killing trail And all it took was desire Tender And raw The nights tore them out of their skin Slow drinks at long quiet bars Tonguing ice cubes Alone in the cool dark as projector reels spun They touched finger tips Standing room only in a great opera hall Stuffed with pearled women and drowsy men The crowd dangled on each note lifting from the singer’s mouth Finally silent So close the smell of sweat and perfume And toothpaste Stunned by the buffeting of her voice quieting the hall We have nothing to hide You fool you fool you fool Please I want to see you But the curtains Legs and arms and fingers twisting Pulling each other closer it was never close enough Until they had no more or there was no more time Leaving the sheets drenched to the mattress Never a thought for who would clean them later That was later Everything was later And they carried on until the leaves finally capitulated Their attachments desiccating until it wasn’t possible to hold on any longer Falling in red and brown swirls lining the lawns and gutters Then spinning and turning Falling Falling Falling And with them always the man who listened Who felt a rush of heat and disgust
January 9, 2026 at 12:47 PM
levinskyleo.bsky.social
today’s lines and revisions
With a third listening he A stranger in the room with us right now He's got your number see what I mean A wink makes a sound They’ve got ears in the walls and so forth Hello? What I mean is They’re listening A stranger Between the pairs of anxious yearning lips as the tape reel spun its roulette I’ll tell you about how One summer In my desperate youth I swam naked in a desolate lake With a gentle boy We ate wild berries and marked insect bites with our nails Until our lips were stained and our skin was a treasure map of x’s We practiced holding our breath until our lungs burned Dove off high rocks trying to touch the muddy bottom of the dark quite lake Each time we went deeper deeper together together Sunk tendrils of hair grasping for the light above We dove and dive until our legs were rubber Until the sun disappeared and we laid under the moon with our bodies gently licked by jittering flames We never spoke with words but looks and glances And no one seemed to notice Our long absences We dove and plummeted But we never touched the bottom And what happened? Oh who knows what ever happens I have to go I love you I love you I love you don’t go I have to go you fool When can I see you I don’t know I don’t know later Its always later with you how many laters do we have But they had their laters Their voices climbed the sweaty summer walls They strolled together amongst humid monuments Stealing glances at all the old faces hung on plaster Encrusted in oil and framed in gold Old fading books and promises imprisoned behind glass Jaw lines and hips teased from marble Hallowed spaces left desolate just for them Or so it felt Coffee counter breakfasts just one more cup Before the long day apart filling the ceaseless needs of their bureaus Up to now lives that felt weightless but that summer was so heavy Like the air would burst at any moment Everyone’s eyes on everyone else’s Endless burials of …
January 8, 2026 at 12:44 PM
levinskyleo.bsky.social
today’s lines and revisions
Of course a clown its always clowns They make me happy they make me sad You make me happy You fool you fool you silly fool tell me something you’ve never told a soul You silly fool you silly fool Please Lovers trading soft electric secrets And from here on out it was all meat for the grinder It was all information see Two becomes three With a third listening he A stranger to everyone in the room with us right now He's got your number see what I mean The sound of a wink They’ve got ears in the walls and so forth Hello? What I mean is They’re listening And one must always Act now When your number was up after all You were up against the wall A stranger between the pairs of anxious yearning lips He had your number all right and the tape reel was spinning Ok I’ll tell you One summer in my desperate youth I swam naked In a desolate lake With a gentle boy We ate wild berries and marked insect bites with our nails Until our lips were stained and our skin was a treasure map of x’s We practiced holding our breath until our lungs burned Dove off high rocks trying to touch the muddy bottom of the dark quite lake Each time we went deeper deeper together together Sunk tendrils of hair grasping for the light above We dove and dive until our legs were rubber
January 7, 2026 at 1:45 PM
levinskyleo.bsky.social
today’s lines
Sighs flattened to their coarsest rattle Winding a maze of circumstance and twisted metal Flesh meshed into a grid of sharp copper All edges and rasp Breath flirting over doorways of teeth Chasing an urgent maze between millions of other voices A tangled ball of flickering chasing lights Voices unmoored entirely from the torqued vibrating air They sung and giggled and wept and pleaded Hardly anything left of the animal now but bone and marrow Voices Unleashed from proximity and unbound from the tether of their bellows What are you painting today my dear A sad clown holding happy balloons Strangers breath a shimmer on your cheek Is that you Who’s calling please I’m sorry they’re not in fashion anymore That’s why I’m calling But they’re out of style The butcher Your mother
January 6, 2026 at 12:56 PM
levinskyleo.bsky.social
some lines from today
Crushing anything pure to packaged slurry With all the newest techniques No They let the towers of memoranda fall Their desks weighted to the breaking point with reams of murderous numbers A tiny local pause in the killing trail And all it took was desire Tender And raw The nights tore them out of their skin Slow drinks at long quiet bars Tonguing ice cubes Alone in the cool dark as projector reels spun They touched finger tips Standing room only in a great opera hall Stuffed with pearled women and drowsy men The crowd dangled on each note lifting from the singer’s mouth Finally silent So close the smell of sweat and perfume And toothpaste Stunned by the buffeting of her voice quieting the hall We have nothing to hide
January 5, 2026 at 8:19 PM