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i am starting to think that picasso painted to just get the girls to slip into a sweet summer away from the warm wind and long lost days in front of that great death guernica les demoiselles the weeping woman arm pits bare breasts abound all the females in the world are in the museum … Continue reading
you know what i am looking for the wild words that hold me when others do not the dripping down my leg from a little life lived the deep hungry earth decomposing in the thrust of another season that thing that was there before love was all there was those thick words wet with the … Continue reading
dear dear, it was said that this would be the time of my life. sometimes, it is. days wear sunlight and i can hear an ocean miles away. some of the salt is found in my cup. other times, though, i sit here, baked by the sun, burnt by it, thinking what it means to be turned … Continue reading
cy is short for cyan, which is supposed to sound like sigh, and i do. her name was meant to be hissyphus. a parody of the gods, i got her to give meaning to the mythos of grey, to move the rocks i did not know how to. she doesn’t roll. she sits on my … Continue reading
opened to the distance of being in a bed with someone falling out of love with you here i am again softened by the want of kissing the corner of your mouth only to find it rounded like the sun that will set like the night scattered as flour edges cut like a cedar spring … Continue reading
there laying in an attempt to watch the air in your hand it is the memory of the name of the widest river you used to know that flows out first when you are promising that this my arms my legs my body swimming with yours is it all there is to recall though your … Continue reading
dear dear, what does it mean to work? is your every day filled with meaning? do you mean to make it to the next day? are your coworkers mean? are hospitals demeaning? or is it all just mean, an average, a lump, a benign thing that takes the excitement of life and death alike? i … Continue reading
dear dear, in the thick legs of nights like these where i can hear the echoes upstairs beginning to get ready to go out, i wonder what space remains to be discovered? there are the usual stars that hang like the feet of dead men, the small caverns of the sea somewhere in someplace wet from the … Continue reading
against the longest winter even a struggling weed will be celebrated by sunlight when the snow is sloughed in the same way that love feels like melting like all things do eventually the pop you shouldn’t drink your family dog happy to see you the waters the moon the space between pulling your clothes off … Continue reading
i killed my first patient. she was young, dressed by light, poked by the first grey hairs that waved like the slippery sign of spring crushing the ice of an ancient lake. she wore a warm orange sweater. her nails were painted blue. and she was going to die. i greeted her, took her history. she smiled throughout. said … Continue reading
Mizpellt wurdz 