November 2010
1 post
2 tags
divorce poems xxx OR dreaming
i wake from a dream about your body hotter than lit matches, you, deeper than the ocean, and under me i don’t want to think about that little black dress and the room is cold so i go to the wall adjust the thermostat and i think about clean white snow
Nov 25th
1 note
July 2010
3 posts
i stared hard at the stack of motley crue cassettes behind the counter as we listened to neil young, live in winnipeg - and i live there now, oh, i live here - recorded three days ago, and my eyes welled up with tears for my dead and dying friends.
Jul 30th
2 tags
campfire sing-alongs
‘i have got to get out of here.’ i’m staring at a campfire, out in this thicket in the middle of some obscure suburb-of-a-suburb. the half-built cottage, cabin, whatever it is - now it’s empty. in the morning, the only mark of our being here will be the words “BAT COUNTRY”, and the bats that we stenciled on the walls. we can’t bear the thought of a...
Jul 8th
2 notes
on my way home from work, i watched the fireworks from the bus. they lit the whole sky red and i wanted to be a part of that. instead, i made food for strangers, plastered on a smile like bandaids. i cut my right index finger a few days ago. it’s cut from the tip of it to the edge of the nail i’d cut too short a few days before that. there are ambulances everywhere, on the bus ride....
Jul 2nd
May 2010
2 posts
she curls up in the windowsill lets her foot dangle out and she imagines falling
May 18th
it’s like lifting skinny hips i can taste yr bones yr bony breathing, ocean song, the siren song, the siren song, the lonely ocean filled with siren songs
May 10th
March 2010
3 posts
1 tag
harvesting
1. i smear my war paint on like i can fight the wars back home 2. friendships, fires open hearts unzipped tents 3. we howl at the moon, this cleansing blue light, oh the stars 4. i have no voice anymore and i used up all my words on skin, on feeling, feeling 5. i wash my face but i will keep fighting the good fight
Mar 16th
1 note
Mar 8th
21 notes
structurally sound OR giving yourself a black eye
i live inside a safety glass house i built into a geodesic dome i could stand in here and throw these rocks all day
Mar 4th
February 2010
2 posts
penn station deconstruction states
i stood at 8th and my thirty-third chance i thought i’d puke all my sins onto the pavement but maybe that was the cigarettes, half a pack right there waiting on yr late train but you came up, you came out looking like an angel and me, my halo was smoke and it dissipated as soon as i made my move
Feb 27th
1 note
1 tag
laughter OR divorce poems viii
it used to be some great relief, the way you opened your mouth to laugh now you open your mouth - it’s all going downhill
Feb 16th
December 2009
1 post
untitled
i dream a tangerine skyline, bright and whole- some dreams are better than others
Dec 23rd
November 2009
2 posts
internal monologue OR divorce poems vii
it’s cold out; the wind cuts right through my coat, and i’ve left my scarf at home, intentionally. i want to get sick. i need an excuse not to go out. that being said, it’s true you took half our friends with you in the divorce. don’t even try to deny it, you did, and now i don’t go out half as much as i used to, which is good because i’m miserable anyway. i...
Nov 24th
1 tag
singles OR divorce poems II
lord, do i miss the days of the 45 single song sides complementing lives running in tandem fingers like needles, playing the grooves of your musical spine now, without backbone i join the sussurous shuffling legions browsing CD racks with headphones on
Nov 10th
October 2009
11 posts
while having a cigarette on the balcony
clouds swimming in endless blue my smoke curls to join them
Oct 29th
jumping
blood on yr teeth like spray paint in the overpass the graffiti reminds us of what we lost to the fire of summer sun to the tan on my shoulders and the lines on my face and the endless seductive highways where i dreamt i stood on top of chain link suicide fences some strange sad alien trying to hold hands with the sky
Oct 27th
if
if we lived closer if i weren’t so scared if you were more sure if i didn’t pick at things if you held on more tightly we would be good i would smear your makeup on your pillow you would be my ocean i would hold your hand you would feel prettier because i would make it so but we aren’t and i am and you aren’t and i do we’re not but you still are...
Oct 26th
1 tag
wool socks OR divorce poems I
i am your knee-high wool socks i kiss your toes, cling to your calves, keep you warm if your feet are cold i am your knee-high wool socks — stuffed in a drawer ‘cause it’s summer.
Oct 23rd
and you can't use them to pay me to speak
the rocks they use to shore up the train tracks for miles around here leave bruises the size of coins, never bigger some of them are nickels and others are toonies but however many i get and however hard i press them after i cannot use them to pay my way out of town
Oct 22nd
things i have picked up
the four of hearts from a red deck of cards, and the ace of spades from a blue one. a snail shell - i hope there are no homeless gastropods around here. two quarters i won in the casino in coeur d’alene - even though i lost a dollar. a tiny padlock with tiny keys - they do not fit the lock. a girl scout badge with one embroidered word - “please” ...
Oct 21st
idiot's guide to flying
lather your lungs with tar and feather them.
Oct 21st
1 note
1 tag
clementine OR divorce poems vi
i. dull machine thunks i make errors to keep my mind off of you ii. wash the dust from the factory off of my hands, my face alone in the employee bathroom looking feeling like a gaunt hard-working ghost iii. no one determines their own futures but i could have tried harder iv. working nights means spending days in bed i wash my sheets and don’t put them back for...
Oct 14th
empty new house OR widowed
would you believe i still jump when the door creaks, like my keening could bring you back home i hear you in the hail on my windowsill and your ghost squeaks on the stairs, but you never lived in this house, anyway.
Oct 14th
Oct 13th
xoxo pilot
i choose to believe amelia earhart got lost in someone’s skin the world i create is less plane crashes and more shared mattresses and all the unkissed pale inches are things i claim with my lipsteethtongue i can make purplered landmarks visible from the sky and no one will get lost again
Oct 13th