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Literature Text
A miscarriage of unwritten words:
she washes lead streaks
from the side of her hand,
quicksilver water spiraling
down the bathroom sink.
she washes lead streaks
from the side of her hand,
quicksilver water spiraling
down the bathroom sink.
Literature
laundry lines
I.
when the boy drawn to priesthood kissed me, his mouth burned.
with triple-layer onion skin and a crucifix tongue, he tumbled
down from a cloud at 9 and snapped his legs in half.
for six nights, the siren sounds bled into mourning.
II.
all great men are bound to fracture. when a bone twists into fury,
breathe sharply through your nose – three times like siren song –
and recall the scent of your mother’s perfume.
III.
we hang wet clothes in the closet in the habit of mistaking
good men for heroes. for so long, i have not had a hero.
my father stomachs the blow of scarred mouths and ambulance
bells. the boy cloake
Literature
VOGUE
she sits
heaving on the bathroom
floor on sunday nights like
it's in style to have rotten teeth
and bloodshot eyes
and all 206 bones on display like
a natural history exhibit
(in fifty years they will line
up before your corpse to see
the girl who had to ring
Death's doorbell exactly seven
times before he opened the door)
trees shiver in winter
until all the snow scatters
to the ground and they are left
bare and naked like skinny
children left on the side of the road.
snow crystallizes in my hair until
it is stiff and white. i miss the days
when the sky was black at night
instead of faded grey and when
i didn't face nightmares of
carvin
Literature
under the unders
lately i’ve been under the unders,
which is to say lately i’ve been hosting the ghosts
of everything i’ve ever loved and that silence gets to you,
you know, it tears you like the idea of something horrific
and before you know it, your entire existence is
a fresco of maybes and apologies and snapped skulls
and by snapped skulls, i am alluding to the notion that this sterile noise,
this silence, drives you crazy. once, a man told me that boredom
has its holy uses and i laughed at him and the rush of nostalgia
that immediately followed was the worst melancholy,
let me tell you, it was like feeling each of your trillio
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-- Day 21A tanka because I do what I want!
April 21st, 2014
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Ooooh, wow. This one...whooo...