archives

death

This tag is associated with 281 posts

New York

Dear dear, I adore you. I have to start with that common, misused, adorned phrase for sometimes, the most obvious facts bear repeating. Against the falseness, they barrel through. Against the swell of disappointments, they ground. Against me, I hope there is you, adored and yourself. I mean all of it. All of you. You … Continue reading

Queen here

Dear dear, Kurt Vonnegut wrote that the best piece of all of literature was from King Lear. When the climax is winding down, and the characters have shown themselves to be vile, and there is nothing left to salvage, King Lear perishes. Among all the metaphors and metonyms and entire neologisms that Shakespeare could have … Continue reading

All cocktails look like arrows

Dear dear, I am drunk and I am happy and I am in love. Most of my writing should be this easy breathing. It should wet your lips as you say the words. It should remind you that I want to wet your lips. But I get undrunk much of the time. I am not … Continue reading

Naked truth

On the stand is me. Much of the battered light beats shadows into my face. There is no judge, no jury. The room is empty, save for a sole typist‚Äôs typewriter that is blue on the exterior shell and a grey, hard metal on its keys. A faded wood from the Deco era panels the … Continue reading

Sled

You, Everyone knows there is no real thing as poetry, that it is effectively useless, that it fails in the practical like brushing one’s teeth or in stopping a man jumping off from the ledge, but still, during these hospital days, I think that too many are suffering from what is kept within a good … Continue reading

All of fall

Dear, First, your eyes. The shape of the earth bathing happily in itself; stolen sunlight caught on a hot, giving solstice’s day just before the golden auburn tumbles behind the hills; years pocketed away into a little secret like a schoolboy crush; the wet world after raw rain when the waters learn how to kiss … Continue reading

Happliciation

Dear the Hiring Committee of Poets & Writers, My application began twelve years ago. I was twelve and he was thirty three and we were in love. I apologize for beginning with the smatterings of pedophilia and without introducing myself in the usual professionalism and pleasantries fitting for someone who is pleasant and fit and … Continue reading

tap out

are we only we in the broken things must we continue to bleed on those who never wounded us who do you talk to now that you are alone like a scab   does the moon behind your chest still hold a reflection in the knife can butter still bend the metal where are you … Continue reading

it will sound like a goose

where are the herds the wild wolves that would massacre this hopeful innocence still hopping into each day the maddening light that cannot reach the deep breath of the forest   everything has been cut down and domesticated even the spring has a plan nowadays for what will grow when   it will be you … Continue reading

what to do

to breathe beyond these shadows i must look elsewhere than where your absence leaks into the late afternoon dark underneath the door light curling behind the curtains like a cat we had together before it died   to destroy the love left in my bones i must wade beyond the treeline against the hefty hues … Continue reading