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“One of the death-stricken at Donner Lake may have said, with tremulous voice: ‘Look! There, just above us, is a beautiful house.’”
—C.F. McGlashan, History of the Donner Party
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7086
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1216117
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Except with the language I was born to./
Occasionally, with painters and collagists-//
dead now, typically- who can’t voice/
opposition to my misappropriations.
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5144
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not a
mouse fume left
in me
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72124
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My skin is tearing in microscopic slits
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330
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Your cairns/
are litter in the streets/
they line and they: landmarks
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1150129
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Your cairns/
are litter in the streets
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1321
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I do not know how to shut down the watch factory
I do not know how to turn back time
It is only fitting that an onion have the same layers as time
As the universe, as the world
If only I could take time out to the field and plant it
And let it s
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97621
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I have to find a way To evolve To become To grow into something else To become something else I have to find a way To let go Loosen my firm grasp Watch it all fall away Let myself fall away Drop this act This weight This mess of a life This mess I…
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110665
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To listen is to feel embodied reason//
sing and dance with consummate grace
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104198
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My first shooting star, wasted on a girlish dream; /
The second one equally misused on youthful desire; /
The third would eclipse all the rest of my aspirations,
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90721
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I’d caught a small fish
but there wasn't enough room on the bridge
to reel it in completely
so I carried it hanging from my pole
along the edge of the traffic
A fine black dog joined me
following me into the shack
at the end of the bridg
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6320
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the other day/ i saw you in the road/ stooped to pick pieces/ of a heart broken like glass/ all over the ground.
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108011
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#ShortStory #writers
are failed #poets...
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