archives

kacper niburski

This tag is associated with 38 posts

where’s where

still standing here where you left me don’t you know how to find me   i am a soft pullover of yours i am the slippery sunlight in between the toes   there is a deep love under my armpit a bit of warmness glowing still where you spent an evening kissing the usually empty … Continue reading

Simple

Dear dear, I began writing this last year. Many of the words were complicated then. They were ruined in my mouth. Blood dyed their ends. But all of this has been to write a few sentences, simply, assuredly, without the need to compile anymore at least for a day. Today, for example. So, after 365 … Continue reading

meta static

food undigested on the chest breasts already pancakes they will laugh when reaching under the napkin of my body they the strong they the knowledgeable will the question caught on my throat survive the morning before they leave there is another joke that reaches the awake ears bending like flowers to the sun curtains closed … Continue reading

ken

how many dogs need to die to feed the cat with the fat pouring onto the dull street that forgets to reach this silver headless plate   when the sun sours atop the family pet then you must summon my name like a leash turned whip air beckoning the bow demanding the few breathes barked … Continue reading

Rags

This is something I wrote for a fashion company I worked for that made me wear. * The future is a shaky present, a blowback to a past that is either forgotten accidentally or otherwise never digested fully. It’s a never-ending nowhere, a hope to put a flag onto a land that has no country. … Continue reading

william cody

looking at you and i closed speaking in tongues must i swallow this memory too the timely teaching of your name the dripping of that thick life down your chin where each slippery morning there is still rot somewhere a fresh breaking that can be heard over the horizon and the relatable gulp of that … Continue reading

Ticks

Dear dear, I am not good at making friends. Most of the time, I make it only about it myself, about my faulty focus, about how I am doing this new thing, how I don’t want everyone to know but listen to all this unknown, how even now in this tumbling self-centered supposed selflessness, I … Continue reading

to grow up like this

and the lump is a throat is a life who will say that one should never strain their neck for muscles connect to bone and bone connects to milk and you can be powerful son you can block out the sky if you drink enough of that tall tale   night blankets the room in … Continue reading

Holidays

Dear dear, These were the holidays. Such is a banal, limp sentence, an obviousness that would knowingly ignite even the most unaware moth. Yet it is blindingly true. These were the holidays. These were the gasps of us among the giving dishes, the bony fish, the dogs that do not feel like the dogs we … Continue reading

Ga ga goo go

Dear dear, In nine months, I am happy to be the first to present to you a healthy, though squawking birth, a weird congratulation for the act of insemination of a thing that is meant to be more than a thing, a failed bird, a busted egg, an omelet if the bird-part sticks faster than … Continue reading