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you say we always fight i say we don’t you respond that i’m always wrong i ask if i agree does that prove you wrong * what we talk about when we talk about about is no more than a fight of interest dependent on what didn’t compound interest when it was first talked about … Continue reading
read me poet like a poem where each line stops and starts the world where there is mess organized and a hurricane with a heart in the center of a place decentered where everything is still if only to catch your breath for the next line like a fish caught struggling fighting and hoping for … Continue reading
the following isn’t what is could be * he died like a hot dog with the condiments of death sprinkled when the ketchup dried like relish of a haircut and a stank of something resembling mustard gas and stuffed with meat that was too jumbled to differentiate but that did look delicious at least on … Continue reading
first time holding a baby it cries and i feel like crying too but i do not for i am no baby and soon it stops and grows out of the habit like i did * they say there’s star dust in us spread from an explosion over time and space which makes sense for … Continue reading
i move through my stream of feeds crumbs of laughs and likes with an awareness of what it means to be gluten intolerant and i can do anything to be happy like read about how to be happy or about the egyptians who buried cats which makes me happy thinking of the little beasts not … Continue reading
the following are snipped pets. they should be fixed, but i’m an amateurinarian. * never say nothing because nothing is never said * the axe and the woods are different yet are one and the same and the line between the two cuts * everything is a test of how much you want everything * … Continue reading
the following are responses to poets who are long since dead but who sometimes answer me during long nights that it is okay, keep showering, eating chips from a grizzly bag, and reading for there will always be death and in it, poetry and the chipped showers of reeds from those lived days. * two … Continue reading
time is kicking through the neighbourhood that felt timeless in hiding spots where a house is constructed now with stranger corners that you can’t go into because you heard that the new people there don’t like meeting others and mrs guller who lived on the lot before might still haunt the place not that … Continue reading
i wanted to leave something profound behind that made sense of all this mess before i killed myself but i didn’t have anything which is why i killed myself * a suicide is a period of life * hanging there like an inverted exclamation i wondered whether he yelled or was silent like before to … Continue reading
they say poetry is dead and this is true for there is too much death in poetry and even more in them * catch it catch it the boy threw my way a spider who was put into a jar watched as it built a web with whispers of catch it catch it even though … Continue reading
Mizpellt wurdz 