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Showing posts from October, 2015

Eleventy Trash (Tonkin bout Love)

Stiff bindle to handsome dreams as scaled with maybe With gout as broad as any field I'd lift to the heavens daily dear There's no absenting this lingered staph of need Only truth baled as it is Taut with every depth of string Ideal as bottom seed Below the grain of this dead field Not for any prim ejaculate we But trees endless and amazing trees Beyond this league of days Here to alternate our lonely and our cordial apathy or any other alternate to wit wrung ears. Wake, work, sleep but never reinvigorating the state of our social understanding for one another, it should be greater than the sum that it now represents. It should be greater than just myself alone. My family and my neighbors are part of my organism as my organism is a part of this much bigger vessel. This vessel that includes garbage pickup and public transportation followed by a light entertainment and time for reflection. So it should be an understanding at least as large as all of this. This is not a complex e…

Pride after Proud (stepping short)

Seven qualities distinguish the picaresque narrative form: talk about replacing our doors
talk about replacing our basement windows
talk about replacing our garage's overhead doors
talk about leveling our garage floor.
talk about removing our concrete  talk about terracing our back yard.
Mostly they talk about, Let's turn off the burning lights please...

the manufactory of a strong resemblance is not the engine of this irony

We've only ever ever aftered and never ever before that. In the bathroom by the bed the light has a bulb and the radiator smells like bleach sitting on sweet varnish. Your personal angel stopped by like a dried up horse with awesomed teeth and a very sad apple. I was almost sixteen. It was autumn, same as now. It was cloudy, same as now.
I saw the poem you scratched into the sink Here is the rose of this day Here is its stalk tethered to the sky Each petal yawns at its own profundity Its nip of dirt Its spray of tongue The pig of my arm is a demon with a single bright tooth and a broad flat smile It easily finds the loam of my length in the passions of this clay Where is this rose of plenty so like your promises Like promises if they were pennies H...