O blood how could you be so apparent? Is it an Indian summer or the lover to my side, or— I pause to cover my head still, hands bluish a colony of blue a sky of breath beneath my gaze—the taste of my tranquil heart.
At the risk of being broken, they grow together. One breathes, one yellows, one takes up the sun yellowing without noticing. I have thought, on occasion of clipping one, leaving a clean machete tree stump just to see if one grows longer just to see if the one grows back.
Peck on you, Rosa where are you anyway? two missed phone calls & the passing of days Ready to hurt yourself? Ready to hurt yourself again? Honey, don’t fall in love is really what he meant. That little avant guard-ista tasty like a pizza winsome winds beneath her coattails, and charm like starry-eyed minnows in... Continue Reading →
well, they are gone, and here must I remain, serious as a star when only one star can be seen yet I am the one left looking, hearing your footfalls as they fade I am the one who always waits, and you, one of many who has found me by mistake returning next to my... Continue Reading →
Alabastrine, beauteous, careful daylight, ebbing. For gallant headwinds include juridical knowledge, lyrical mastery, & no place (for) quivering, reticent shadows. Tu último viento: (a) wayward, xerophytic young zephyr— Also published here: https://theamericanscholar.org/and-be-careful-darling/#.WjKobrbMwWo
How simple it must be, the life of a rock ignoring the pulse of the tick and the tock forgetting which dirty magazine it took to read in bed in lieu of a book. A rock with no shoes, no sandal, nor boot Not even a rambling foot— Like an artist, it has no need... Continue Reading →
‘You go behind the sea and bring light also to the underworld,’ declaring, ‘Behold! this cup wants to be empty again.’ But you are the one who is empty, A tepid ‘hybrid of plant and ghost’ ‘a worm’ wrangling with a rope. ‘Nothing is more vengeful than your meekness.’
How radiant, your Lustering lips which pour sweet moonlight onto our eyes for better seeing. How sharp and well observed, your Cupid’s peak distinct— not quite Angel, not quite Diva— a little Flirty & Perky Pink never hurt anybody. Your Love Test suggests Red Rock. The right to say, Viva Glam! was all you ever... Continue Reading →
In the laundromat you read books and listen to Chopin. On both tv’s the same show is playing at slightly different times, which is why you try not to forget your headphones. The machines are half dead and the dryers only run on high or low. It's nighttime, so the air is sticky, and the... Continue Reading →