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TW: Self-harm. I wanted to write a mental health essay that wasn't all rah! rah! and with as little sentimentality as possible. Out of everything I've published, I've gotten the most feedback from this--people telling me it helped them understand a loved one better, etc.…
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still to early to dodge leaping bodies on misty roads at night
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In my 14 to 15 year old life in the late 50s I worked as a clean-up boy in the neighborhood butcher shop up on 5th. Ave.,
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sometimes i have to be in the other room
just so i can breathe easy away from you.
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The Muse//has used/ me up
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(no one need fear timidity in our tastes― /
we like trying new things, no matter our hastes!)
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It was all things considered a particularly odd sight, which Annalise did not know how to handle.
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everything moved in circles
like the music, the booze and the drugs
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children love to push the gas up and down my limbs
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Jo was tailored, Amy was frivolous with ribbons and bows, Meg was plain and sensible; and Beth, who was ill and had no costume changes, wore the same nightgown throughout the dress-up session.
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If they are all speaking medicine & I / start speaking French - how / rude am I? Would they understand then / what it is to be entirely left out / of the conversation, unseen?
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A pair of snakes contemplates gulping a pair of frogs.
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With such demeaning precarity, I can’t read/
anything more than a thousand words
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Benny and Sylvia rolled apart, still laughing, caught up in the magic. They always laughed afterward her cheeks always dark red, apples ripe for picking. A little backwards he thought since her apples had already been picked. Even better, he had picked them and it…
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the continuous racket, a buzz saw trumpet
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We passed a dead cat lying up against a guard rail, its fur stringing and wet and exposing its bloated skin which had a purple tint to it. Not my work, Death said, smoke trickling out of one eye socket.
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When the sailor heard the 2nd
World War had just ended
He grabbed the woman in the white dress
Bent her backwards in Times Square
And kissed her real good
And the photographer
Just happened to be there
At the right moment
But then
As
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I'd had way too many drinks. My legs were quivering. Everyone had gathered there in the kitchen, my sleek and attractive ex-wife the center of attention, all the men fucking drooling over her. Seems she was a yoga queen now, a vegan princess, a dancer somewhere. She…
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"Time is an ocean, but it ends at the shore. You may not see me tomorrow."--Bob DylanThey're writing poems, but not for me. Guess I'll write one for my own. For nobody that I know now. It's a pretty lonely world for someone who sings, not you, not with…
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i hope that day comes sooner rather than later.
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In the mirror an owl staring you in the face once again,/a fraught fragment of life’s puzzle. But you pretend it’s. . . .
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You say very little when all is ready, the coffee and all, and afterward, during the ride, and even less as suddenly thirteen women pile in.
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my love for you/ is like the falling snow
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the burning thrusts/
of yellow in defiance of the frost
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"I would like my pictures to look as if a human being had passed between them, like a snail, leaving a trail of the human presence, memory trace of past events, as the snail leaves its slime." Francis bacon “Feminine …
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Lou Reed was sitting in CBGB,
I was sitting on Greenwich Ave. and West 10th street.
I didn't know him then and I didn't know him later either,
but we were both there.
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I suspect I’ll make the right decision.
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