This tag is associated with 4 posts

history book in our spine

a poem every direction:   wish you were here here wish you were were here wish you you were here wish   a direction: every poem * i worry that history has narrowed its focus on me and will one day be called back by the vindication of my flesh a child caught up in … Continue reading

grapes left in the sun smell like oranges

if i wear vines will i grow or will they climb to my neck with a hug that’ll keep me warm forever * never forget that you have forgotten some of the worst times and so this too will be never evermore * the problem with writing is that it takes a reader and i … Continue reading

a leg of ligaments

the river carries my sadness but it too drowns in sky and sun * tender tendons tend on to muscle your way through your way to muscle * what you could do was once you couldn’t until you could do couldn’t * in the beginning there is the end which is why we begin things … Continue reading

my culling

i knew there was always something wrong with always knowing something wrong about i like how i can’t write about myself all too well because once i say i’m pretty great with all the ugliness i can muster i feel myself sliming out just like that: mustard gas slinking yellow that makes me hurl on … Continue reading