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fiction

This tag is associated with 48 posts

what the waters tell the land

To the Class of Medicine 1960, I would like to thank you for the Class of Medicine 1960 Research Bursary opportunity for my 2018 summer academic term. Without it, I’d be idle and researchless. I’ll admit this latter neologism is not a word, which is both sign of littered learning spent this summer and the … Continue reading

am i bugging you

the following is bad entomology from a worse anthropologist * must i paint the flowers too those who will wait for the wicked days when rain is promised ground taking form of the air the soap taking form of you both holding the seeds of dirt where a stem sits like that dark thing there … Continue reading

oop

another lung lonely with those birds on the line squawking and shitting blabbing about how to hide the sun destroy the trees eat more than their bodies have shit in them to shit more than their bodies can shit   there is no breath untouched no love in the day their wild wings are the … Continue reading

An update

Love, Every day, it piles. All I need to tell you. All I haven’t. Some of it is trivial. I have a cat. Her nails are long. She scratches me. Some of it is important. I have a cat. Her nails are long. She scratches me. And it is this repetition of both, in both, … Continue reading

pre cook

if the egg came first then so did i, reeling with that thick film of arithmetic that will whisper your body is holy from the things leftover; sentences souring against the beating that thugs could bring lost loves praying in an unlit temple for a few brighter places to kneel than this glorious hole the … Continue reading

webbed fingers

to feel your weight, to kiss you in every lovely place, to watch your gentle grace, to listen to you saying i compliment you too much, to compliment your voice as you say, to sit in silence, relaxed, stretched as sunlight, as flowers flowing, as straight when morning cuts in golden and generous mumbling, please, … Continue reading

when when meant something

dear dear, it was said that this would be the time of my life. sometimes, it is. days wear sunlight and i can hear an ocean miles away. some of the salt is found in my cup. other times, though, i sit here, baked by the sun, burnt by it, thinking what it means to be turned … Continue reading

a catalogue

cy is short for cyan, which is supposed to sound like sigh, and i do. her name was meant to be hissyphus. a parody of the gods, i got her to give meaning to the mythos of grey, to move the rocks i did not know how to. she doesn’t roll. she sits on my … Continue reading

battle of the nile

there laying in an attempt to watch the air in your hand it is the memory of the name of the widest river you used to know that flows out first when you are promising that this my arms my legs my body swimming with yours is it all there is to recall though your … Continue reading

dark was the night cold was the ground

dear dear, in the thick legs of nights like these where i can hear the echoes upstairs beginning to get ready to go out, i wonder what space remains to be discovered? there are the usual stars that hang like the feet of dead men, the small caverns of the sea somewhere in someplace wet from the … Continue reading