-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
electricity green where the nature doesn’t grow finds me holding onto my bag fearing the rowing above from buildings bending against the dried stream that recounts the now dead tree stumps still reaching for the next leaf and the original current of yellow that may bask between my legs in a smell of longing to … Continue reading
yesterday was the day to plan the future but it was hurting beauty bleeding blue into a sky scabbed with clouds one that has seen too much red balanced on razor horizons where things always look brighter like tomorrow which may be just as suitable to catalogue a life into segments of sleep wake sleep … Continue reading
i am trying to define loneliness for you but you wouldn’t understand which is exactly it * i have been able to avoid being alone by avoiding i and what i have been * there is little like loneliness which is perhaps why there is little loneliness except for in poetry where each line is … Continue reading
it is not love that will get rid of that feeling of lack of love it is not pain that will absolve numbness it is not what it is that makes is it and it is not not that makes you come to know no but instead it is you there waiting for something that … Continue reading
mornings have regretted the night before but have still picked off the shadows that are leeches gleaned from a stream of yellow that smell like piss in a daylight that sees me there clothed yet still naked moving in the direction opposite from the world’s spin trying to regain tomorrow’s tomorrow with a little bit … Continue reading
that great june light that throats summer into a call of plants gobbling and bugs that coo only for a ravenous month and mouth that’ll ruin the harvest in fall but now rests among the wave of yellow that sees me aiming for another planet with my piss drunk and hollering that i’ll water the … Continue reading
a poem every direction: wish you were here here wish you were were here wish you you were here wish a direction: every poem * i worry that history has narrowed its focus on me and will one day be called back by the vindication of my flesh a child caught up in … Continue reading
they say it small almost a whisper to carve you into a beautiful statue after an earthquake that can finally see the day light but instead notices the rubble around that is shaped like its left foot you are nothing * face bent towards the honeycomb sky dripping being into her while she suckles … Continue reading
knuckles blocking out the sun for the man is pregnant with a fatherhood that suckles the honey dripped summer where he wants to be but not burdened with being and the nights that swallow crowing murder when the mother is emptied by him huffing a childhood nursery rhyme he can’t exactly remember but whose beats … Continue reading
i know the loneliest sentence that after all of it i no longer think about you though you gave me it after all of that i know the loneliest sentence where among the prison of others there is little to be barred from except the heads that match heartache to the hands … Continue reading
Mizpellt wurdz 