794 2 1
|
As the patter of our passing feet fades.
|
4810
|
Luxury, for my wife is a lie-in,
undisturbed and swaddled in all the duvet's warmth
like a birthday present wrapped in love
all alarms, phones and distraction from dreams ceased
save for the constant metronome of the second hand ticking
inevitably a
|
14821413
|
With his hand, he sees through walls: from the street,
From Schonbran park, girls go to rest in his house.
They sleep off parents’ beatings. They eat.
|
113232
|
I cut myself. Often. The bloodslice like thin lips parted/in prayer.
life’s color drained to ashen/as the old world spins, pirouettes/like a circus dog on the back/of a galloping horse.
|
97300
|
After dividing the sabliereand after the outliers roll away,disappear,or sit like a thrombus between two fingers,will there be enough in the dayfor you to watch the sun saginto its everyday tomb,to listen to the sagittal sighof a passing evening,to eat the last fruits of a…
|
108632
|
sometimes it's hard/ to leave the house in the morning/ when bed is so comfortable/ and you're so far away.
|
87542
|
I had a friend in high school that wore a size G bra and we would take guesses on how much her tits weighed in comparison to the rest of her body. I spent a night wondering how she kept upright.
|
3811
|
I am that girl and here are my shards
that bleed with the stemming gods.
|
11621010
|
|
74931
|
I got a male bouffant hairdo like Trump
I can’t wait to develop patience
And the next time I have a ringing in my head
I’m not going to answer it
Can I Get a New To-Do List?
I tried changing my name to Richard Vixen
Until the State Dept. too
|
21243
|
|
87220
|
You welcome the new girl by putting a message on her back. I breathe harder until she pops or until you ask me what I’ve seen or until you see my hand turn into a fist.
|
105665
|
I found a diseased fish / wedged between some boulders near the pier
|
58900
|
The rusted bars were bent for six memorable hours The beauty flew out, fast as she could To accompany city beasts with enthralling smiles anchored end to end After hefty storytelling of an Indian and Whiteman, The night fell victim to the sharp,…
|
22965
|
Now every time I hear that John Bouttesong, I think of leaving youstanding in the station whileoutside my window abald eagle's nest in a deadcypress tree didn't amaze mea tenth as much as your tenacitybut it's strength reminded meof you so with cloudy eyes I had to…
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