-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
I spoke to a dead guy and he said I’ve been waiting for you for a while now and I said how did you know I’d be coming and I flipped the page and he said I didn’t but I hoped and then I watched him die a second time * When I was younger … Continue reading
Sad steeped poems are the easiest; it’s much harder to write about eating cherries with your feet buried in sand and with a breath of yellow on your diaphragm like a cat around your legs purring as you move against a towel that wraps you in sleep and wakes you up later with the help … Continue reading
I heard there was a poem written that can cure death but I don’t remember how it goes or who wrote it or if it really ever ended, if it just continued and continued even here and in the next and the next until there is no more, but I suppose there always will be … Continue reading
The sun climbs over one mountain just to put shade on another peak. * He was twelve when he died which is better than eleven so I guess he could be happy but I was twelve and a bit so I was pretty sad looking at him with his hair unhair like his lips unlip like … Continue reading
Met this kid who asked why I looked the way I looked and I said it’s cause I wanted to look the way I looked and he said it wasn’t much to look at and I saw myself for the first time, though I had to look away. * You’re a poet so you should … Continue reading
Scribbles was a tough pussy with a pink bow that tied a knot of golden tuffs just above his lips that would hover over the bowl of water while you watched and he refused to take a drink because he didn’t want to show a sniff of vulnerability even if that meant he would die … Continue reading
Bury the bodies where they lay and lay down still like a beast when you tire She cries before we say a word to each other, and years have been silenced in the perfect sentence that expresses all we need to without expressing anything, that attempts to say what can’t be said but is said … Continue reading
I am convinced that there is nothing in this world like love, except for when love is torn away, ends, is no more, and will be no more for there is nothing in this world like love. * To watch the news is to learn what it is to feel old and helpless. * I … Continue reading
Earth’s a cemetery while humans live. Let them both rip each other apart. * Write me down in poems for I wish each line of me to comprise its own being, each pause to be reflective, each space to be an empty wholeness, each moment to be distilled and complete even if I am only … Continue reading
My swimming instructor drowned, leaving me stranded and wondering what technique I had spent perfecting would make me sink. * A beginning poet will always write about love. An experienced poet will always write about lost love. And a poet at the last lines of their life will always write about the love that made them … Continue reading
Mizpellt wurdz 