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I had a poem but I forgot it inside your mouth. Years later, when I crumbled into cookies and from them too and when the sun fell more often than it rose and when my hair slipped to gray to nothing, I’m told you spat it out as vomit. * A sun collapses over … Continue reading
Everything is terrible, because capitalism bought our need and confused it with want; because want was not enough; because enough was a concept defined by people who wanted, needed, and confused themselves before we were born; because we were born; because others weren’t, others who could change and mobilize, not be so lazy to sit and … Continue reading
I had flowers today where pollen fornicated my fingers, but a butterfly came, flashed its failed feathers, and robbed the nectar. * Hold a poem against me for I wish to hold you against a poem. * The city crawls across the earth spreading people who spread more people into the same city that coughs … Continue reading
If you fit human history into a poem you find that anything that has happened has happened because of love and anything that didn’t was because of love too, which leaves you wondering who made you write the poem in the first place. * 3 am creeps finding me lonely in bed listening to the … Continue reading
Poetry is sad and starving for everything is left in the barenaked spaces of the lines that flirt and twist each other’s hair into knots that can only be combed out with long kisses and shared breaths and deep, sweet sighs yet the next line comes too quick and tearing, leaving the knot untied and the … Continue reading
Are you sure you want to buy those she asks as she passes me a pack with pictures of people on the front who look like me if I were shrivelled, exhausted little cigarette stubs that had trouble breathing which I do because I don’t answer but instead look at her while she looks at me … Continue reading
She looks down as I leave not seeing that I look up and notice that the white birch in her living room with its fake birds glued on the branches, stuck and immobile, and its fallen leaves swept away and the rest left dusty, bends away from the sunlight. * My mouth is dry while … Continue reading
The following was published in Incite, December 2013, during their time theme. It’s loud nonsense. * “Shouldn’t we be dead?” “Maybe we already are?” “I don’t think so.” “What do you mean?” “Well, I mean, I’m here, wherever that may be, and you’re there, wherever that may be.” “You sound so far away, though.” “So do … Continue reading
I have become my parents. They ask me questions and want help and in that shift of how and which remote and can you build me a website, they stop being my parents with certainty and answers like what is a lever for or why the sky is blue and I stop being them too … Continue reading
The rain falls on a summer’s day for it doesn’t know any better. * There is sun in my eyes so I cannot see that it is a beautiful morning where the birds do sing and the plants do grow and there’s a bustle going on around me and that will go on with out me … Continue reading
Mizpellt wurdz 