When Saturn first warned us about the perils of combustion, I made a list of things I would slough out my window in the final few seconds before the holocaust baptized the whole house: one frayed photograph, a letter from Port-Cartier but stopped there knowing that I can do without better than your average monk and after all, my most prized possessions come in...
Untitled (or If This Has a Title, I Don't Know It)...
I want to purify my body in an inland sea of alkaline, after everything has been made poison from an irrevocable blow from the sky. After all, just for there to be anyone around to make cave-paintings and calenders the entire world had to go away for a while. Before there were whales, there were little dogs with hooves, that decided, on bad information, to just keep walking into the ocean. Time...
each version is vague about which fruit tempted man, so i picked an orange as my offering. you peeled back the rind like primitive man who came upon an ostrich egg, godlessly marveled its form then sunk his itching teeth into its shell to feel the yolk drip down his chin. the citrus corroded your lips just as they found their purpose and you thought these slices were meant to...
We splurged ten pounds on a sumptuous Chesterfield Of Prussian blue velvet. ...– Ted Hughes, from 55 Eltisley (with regards to B. Nicole)
A Poem for April 12 OR Having Six
i. Engorged with the crimson of Christ, the Mexican postulants rest in procession, common cannibals full-up before the stakes of sainthood ii. We too are gravid but with godlessness, so in the place of salvation we scavenge satiety and bow our heads like saints themselves over the skin of other sinners and prey and prey and prey iii. Six hands, three...
Forty years ago, when I read his books on the back porch, I swore I’d be a...– Saul Bellow’s Henderson the Rain King
I imagine, in other words, that the notebook is about other people. But of...– Joan Didion, on keeping a notebook
When you stir your rice pudding, Septimus, the spoonful of jam spreads itself...– Tom Stoppard’s Arcadia
Alpha Depressus Majoris OR Finally One For You
If you are Misery then I am Company, I think as your ever- brimming head boils over my skin, staining the olive with flecks of black soot like magpies moving about come sundown. You christen your curse Major as though it were some familiar constellation strung up and circling your head, dwindling through bouts of lightness, never long enough for you to evade its dusking...
Up in the Air
When the sun feels farther I grow fatter and keep my bloated figure thawing at home where the faces floating there look upon me with the same disapproving eyes that have been softened by years of staring squarely into the whirring black eye of the kitchen sink waiting for the foam to dispel as though it were a shaken...
What Lays & Who Lies OR Jack's Poem
I much prefer being sick to being well. I go for the uncertainty of it all; the spasmodic retching and sudden chills. I salute the skin-pervading hushed bug, streaming through the blue channels of me, trying his best to cast anchor. How far he has made it – sad little sailor. My freckles should have warned him, for they have seen it all; nothing gets under my skin for very long. They have...
Really being able to follow your whims is a talent requiring a long and secret...– James Guida from Marbles
Alias: Lenore: a letter in a poem at a funeral. →
five—a—day: This is an apology letter for all the days I didn’t love you. This is for the nights I don’t hold you tightly enough. This is for the awful things I called you because they came easier out my mouth. This is for the time I wore the white dress into the lake; you seethed because my…
sarahjeanalex asked: was unaware that you had 2 tumblrs but now i have found you, everything is OK, thank you for liking it, i like you so sososososo much OK
verbatim et literatim: i drank 4 beers tonight and... →
sarahjeanalex: i drank 4 beers tonight and bent one of the rings on my fingers. i suddenly felt immense control over all aspects of my life. i thought of you, and then i thought nothing. i stretched in bed this morning and felt my ribs pressing against the skin on my chest. i imagined a hammer tapping gently on… sarah jean, i really like this
How to Pray & What to Pray For
You came through me like the accidental prayer of a faithless man bargaining with the sky he calls God for One More Chance, just one more bet or one more breath – his plea escaping his lips as swiftly as his momentary savior escapes his mind once the votes have been counted or the wounds are all mended. You came through me in June, wanting to know the proper way to pray for forgiveness...
And knowing it, that this was who we were, that we were no longer who we had...– Marcie Hershman’s “The Guillotine”
Lily Herman: What's a mile →
lherman: You tell me I forget everything you’ve told me, but I remember: You said, I used to think anyone who wasn’t hit had no right to complain. You told me too that you didn’t really believe I liked girls, which I thought might be some kind of challenge. It wasn’t that I wasn’t aware of you—the… lily moon, stay up
Mad Girl's Love Song by Sylvia Plath
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. (I think I made you up inside my head.) The stars go waltzing out in blue and red, And arbitrary blackness gallops in: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. (I think I made you up inside my head.) God topples...
All life is just a progression toward, and then a recession from, one phrase...– F. Scott Fitzgerald
Freud counted an egg good so long as she had the ability to love and to work. By his measure, I am half mad, not rotten but never meant to be dished out in the morning over the darker roast, never meant to be had with the weather reports in the Sunday paper. I want a love as constant as bad news, as craving as famine. I want the blood of war to...
ramidus: Untitled →
ramidus: I thought that you could slink in the backdoor like we did after dark as wayward teenagers, certain of nothing except our mothers’ sleep and the ravenous hunger we had for one another. I thought that you could slip through the cavities in my siren-lined sternum and souse into me…
Madonna of Humility
I look for you in the same city that we conquered years ago as heedless crowned heads filled up with drink and with folly, too consumed with our own good fortune to realize the squalor ascending with the harbor’s foam before us. I look for you on even blocks of pavement and staircases with railings where buoyant boys go to learn new tricks. I remember when...
Exposing the Natural
For the first two weeks of excavation I hunkered down beside a man whose burden was to teach me the proper way to clean Iron Age dirt. His muddled accent made words like trowel seem as fragile as the two thousand year old structures half buried beneath our steel-toed feet. It’s like a narrative, he tells me while peeling back a couple pages of silt, he goes on, Each layer in the...