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Dalia |
back into its elements,
shaping it and squeezing it out of a mould
until its grease-backed monkey trail
forms formidably back into the original question
What is the why you hear?
Concentration-based theme songs particulate
up and up up past the humdrumosphere
99 shambles burst into candles
We result in what we make
We make what we result from
We go to what we make
We result in what we go to
We go to what we resulted in
Pencil-scrape all the way back
through the histories of histories
and the viable feasisphere
To a point, a dot
A micro-physio-achieved
spectre
Iodine answers
fit in like a mallard
Under understanding
subtermerged below the alienosphere
con-fickle-uded
hunker-drops
spiraling
past the q
u
a
g
m
i
r
e
Loaded to the cavities,
Filled with liquid and aches and shakes and quivers and black crystals,
Marked to the bodyguard all the way up back past the starting line.
Considerment, developed all the way to the hypotenuse
Miserable detail, like Charlemagne’s tomb.
All the way back up the needle
toward the trimming
and monstrously fungal, until, until, until, until…
Labels: Dalia
0 Comments
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Fred |
shelf full of screener copies of bad action movies
eight pound bag of navel oranges
24-pack box of maxi pads
Labels: Fred
2 Comments
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DrewTM |
you stand not proudly.
Your body, bare under tufts of hair,
stoops and sighs with me.
And yet you reach
your quills for each
cloud that passes above your boughs.
You don't know you're meek.
Labels: Drew
1 Comments
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Fred |
a rusting gold watch chain bought from a pawn shop
a glass jar half-filled with pennies, nickels, and dimes
a wire mesh laundry basket imprinted with the phrase "keep on trucking"
a pair of black and white wingtips, unevenly stained
a battered leather briefcase with the key broken off in the lock
Labels: Fred
1 Comments
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Daisy |
Artsy
baby art, almost art
so cute it could be art
trying hard to be art
bart, cart, dart, fart
hart and heart
mart, part
tart
smart, but not quite as good
as elephant art
yeah, yeah, yeah
Labels: Daisy
0 Comments
All the dizzying details of contradictions and conflicts and dissolutions |
Dalia |
Encompassed and sealed in the stomach lining of a sheep
to make a singular charming unit
that almost everyone finds endearing
We could make home out of the most barren metallic container
or less
so long as it is we who are home to make it
Why is our last moon so big and halfsplit,
with clear cold air and crisp blue night sky?
How do your musics cut my stomach lining so exactly
with a cut so clean, not a resolution is damaged
Only now do the furled engravings on the frieze jut out
like I had never noticed before,
even though I passed it almost every day
Bring me back anything stronger, solider, or more graceful or elegant or indifferent
than all that is spread before me,
And I will prove to you a soul
Not just a soul. I will prove to you a mattering soul.
Of course it’s me who needs proof and you who is faithful.
I will take your experience. I will take your God. I will take your world.
I will take your fivefold unceremoniously buried sorrow
And I will replicate, replicate until you see mine are the same.
I will take your eyes and your smile
and give them as charity
and I will take all that is ever-running left
because I know it will not run out
But I will also give anything anything anything
because it is already yours
and you can access it every time you come near this orb of light
yours like the constellations
or like the bread we all share
Labels: Dalia
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Fred |
i was blinded by billowing robes
i was chilled by moist, flat sand
i glimpsed destruction through a white veil
tomorrow will be split in two
like an arm amputated at the elbow
forearm, wrist, fingers falling away to nothing,
and new skin already growing on the stump
Labels: Fred
0 Comments
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DrewTM |
i was blinded by billowing robes
i was chilled by moist, flat sand
i glimpsed destruction through a white veil
tomorrow will be split in two
Labels: Drew
0 Comments
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Fred |
in a blinding veil
in the robes of destruction,
tomorrow billowing like a cloud
this truth will split you in two
Labels: Fred
0 Comments
ARCHIVES
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