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dear dear, i used to not think of the generous geography i’ve been given. those cutaways of fat and flesh, those with names i am just sloppily learning. where once stood an abandoned muscle is now the purposeful rectus abdominis. where fat, camper’s fascia. where emptiness, a physiologic peritoneal space with the utmost magical embryologic importance. a rotation, really. … Continue reading
still standing here where you left 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 space … Continue reading
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
here handled dead for yet another exhibit of that hand that will reach to feel the cold but will not disrupt the butterflies wing, will not capture the monarch for fear that the flight will be ruined by hands that will soon swat a fly, splat a hornet, take a bribe, scratch a car, finger … Continue reading
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
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
these the people that will inherit the earth floating alongside me and smiling with the teeth of hungry geese honking over an already white winter above there will be sky smooth words spilled that it is okay that i smoke because isn’t life hard and aren’t things horrible and if you should ever want … Continue reading
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
if the iliad must begin with rage, then i must admit that our age is not so peaceful either. there are people who have told me they hate me in a language i do not understand, and on some days, would not want to. dogs who shit in my steps. tea kettles which will burn … Continue reading
down down that lonely road pruned with the stale blood of the cold cats already struck on the street why is it that i must fall in love with the moon and the unreachable they come for the fences first bold barriers to people like me those who will select the right perfect … Continue reading
Mizpellt wurdz 