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Hell is not hell It is purgatory With endless breathlessness Where you walk but do not move Where you speak but do not echo Where you are you but not A mist mistaken for rain A clock counting down to what end A question without an answer
A writer who talks about writing doesn’t deserve to have written in the first place. Fittingly, I did that below. It is an example of how little I know about the craft, really. So does using really, really. It was for a class analyzing science as a mode of cultural transmission. I wrote science fiction … Continue reading
This is the first form of real, purposeful action I’ve finagled in a while. I could’ve thought before I did it, I think. * It is only a thought, But if you think That it is too much To think About thinking Then you have not thought Enough About thinking Enough To think That thinking Enough … Continue reading
She ripped my tongue out The moment I spoke And hung it On a string Thin as dental floss In between alphabetic breasts Whose white lips Mouthed the letter Y, Which was, after all, The only word I could say While she walked away With my voice.
A toothbrush thrown Over the top Of an apartment Tells the story Of the end Of a love Better than this Poem could ever. * The toothbrush twists In the air In ways which dentists would not recommend But have nonetheless wondered about And probably tested Because there it goes Moving unperturbed As though it … Continue reading
A reborn story. I wanted it to be up here by itself, rather than submerge it within another. Give it its own legs to walk on, so to speak. * She had just given birth and he released he didn’t love her. He shifted his stance from one foot to another, dancing in spot to … Continue reading
Everything is possible under the sun If you just bend and bow And sway under a disco ball That is stuck and heavy in the sky Just like the dancers beneath it Who step on concrete In hopes of becoming as Solid and complete But who often forget that there are cracks Caused by the same baking … Continue reading
Dear dear and dearest, I do not know much about marriage, but I do know a bit about love. In fact, love is the reason I have the honour of writing to the both of you on the most special of days. I have fallen for a girl and she has fallen for you two in quite … Continue reading
She smiles The birds matching The arch Of her lips With their wings And I’m lifted If only for a little while Until the birds squawk Louder than her words Which say something something About something something else, Though I’m sure the sentences Vibrate into the sky Tickling the webbed feet above Like feathers on … Continue reading
Dear dear, I wonder if we are in love. I don’t mean this as an insult to all two years and four months of us. Those individuals that we were, the individuals we have become, and those people we have yet to be are vital. They are important people, even if I don’t believe it … Continue reading
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