1011 2 2
|
a name is what you are, and a name is a wall between. one day let me be earth, so you may be allowed to say you love me. for now i am separate. i'm afraid that's how i will die, and …
|
90800
|
an ominous figure of fear and grace a ball moves back and forth
|
95110
|
they say the sense of smell is the strongest sense connected to memory, but not for me
|
1075136
|
They often leave me dulled/
and wanting back my time.
|
89400
|
gods aren’t going to help you son
|
1223168
|
|
1067137
|
|
91230
|
Kiln dried mummies, landscape of once were alpacas. / Now all the wool is farmed in Alva
|
83600
|
an island hidden in the sound holds treasure
|
1492517
|
Wrote Yeats: “The intellect of man is forced / to choose perfection of the art or of the life.”
|
114139
|
the town / predicted Tom Allen would win a Pulitzer Prize / for the story he would write for the local paper
|
113020
|
You beckon me with an aperitif.
The Kir Royal tingles, its bubbles tickling my nose.
Its subtle black courant pulls me into your smile.
I drink from your lips the champagne-tingle of your kiss.
|
72473
|
I followed the car-path tendrils/
further and further north.
|
64021
|
They left their great need
behind
when they were taken out of the country
They live without thought
of that blood
They do not respond to anything that
calls to it
They are shallow
They feed on image (alone)
Blood does not
shake their heart
|
114552
|
They are really living (they)
say things they don't mean
. . .
Do not know what they say
Take the path without heart,
seeing the image
. . .
The moon rises above them
It does not move their blood
Nothing calls out to their blo
|
