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snow drowning on itself when winter ends leads me to wonder how the floating pieces feel watching themselves sink into themselves very much like myself who does nothing more than blink at the day reflecting against the white slowly drowning too into the clarity of a puddle though i can’t swim * do more than … Continue reading
it used to be easy to write about you but now these words come hard and with endings and the worn use of used to’s * the world was white but your cheeks were red a display of you trying to warm the outside or just my insides with a joke that makes the clouds laugh … Continue reading
i am your grandmother’s armchair and also your grandmother with good advice and cooking if you let me let you if me to learn that your grandmother once wanted as you did and may have snatched me up if you don’t and the chair certainly will after a time of you doing and don’ting for … Continue reading
hindsight you come too late couldn’t you have more hindsight to avoid this the next time so that i have don’t look behind to see if you’ll catch up * if history speaks i suppose it’d note the kiss on my cheek and apologize for not making it so i could see it and that … Continue reading
the following is the following of people who should be looking to lead themselves, or at the least, look behind. the view is beautiful. * you’re an hour late an hour lost an hour spent looking for someone else who finds me worth the while * life is spent in banal platitudes that rarely say … Continue reading
poetry is dead for in death there is poetry * i am asked whether i think poetry is worthwhile by a man who implies that the question is and to whom i answer with my palms open sky lapping flesh mouth hung like a tree after an ice storm heavy and forever saying nothing against … Continue reading
the following are two people in an elevator realizing how lonely they are and how worthless the realization is for no eye contact is made, the floor is reached, and nothing is said by either. * the moon in a lake cannot be saved from drowning only emptied into a glass that blurs back to a circle that still … Continue reading
this much i know is true: there are no truths and i know much of nothing * there is no such thing as good poetry only poetry in good things like when you are standing in a forest with the mist of a waterfall whispering your way towards an escape from a summer’s day that … Continue reading
look i can’t stop now because i have things to do and to start later on so that one day i can have kids and they’ll say dad tell me a story about all those things you do and i’ll read them this poem proud and mighty about the wrangled product after working and working just … Continue reading
he offed himself on himself from a life where he often felt like something awful was missing until he found it quite naturally eyes rolling back into the offering of himself * i am in a streetwar between the sky and the ground and though the ground has at least two legs up on the … Continue reading
Mizpellt wurdz 