POETRY
“Poetry is language at its most distilled and most powerful.”
the strands of your hair on the bathroom tiles aren’t sketching defeat. that’s you spitting disease in the face with another day you’ve woken up to.
Millions of Americans have been affected by identity theft. It’s probably the greenhouse gases.
It recommended
soft porn, as gentle prodding and petting parent
to parent might calm and soothe the kid.
I imagine that undressing a color, though, would be so much like peeling a memory away from the grey and the white matter of your brain.
and then her eyes fully opened — blazed through with strands of mud
you know that
baby swallows make silver ripples
in wild rivers to court reeds?
Yes I am guilty, I’m guilty. A sin was desirable then.
Bring the dancer back to the stalks.
Empty vessels
make the most sound, I think,
as you rip the fairy lights off the handrail.
Part of being a good sad person
is always painting the shadows
in the right direction and knowing
what sorrow to art with.
Okay, picture this: We’re in an elevator. The elevator shuts down. It doesn’t matter where we’re going, only that we’re alone.
You let the yellow glow
from eye sockets. The building up the street
is burning faster and faster.
Try not to see your own predicament in every fucking thing.
