firelightyour lips taste of firelight not that i could know this your body that great sweeping Ozark Forestwith all its bluffs and vistasunderstated well worn mountains not that it could be this it’s just these are the closest i’ve had to home calm.
Post Type Archives: Poems
Untitled #155 (2015)
I want to drive to Chicago,Sufjan Stevens singing about his mistakes(you know, in his “Chicago”)quoting “He had it coming!”(from the hit musical “Chicago”) and i want to stand on a stagetelling the world how much you mean to meknowing,bittersweet,no matter how well i projectthe words may never passunburdened by electric translationstraight from my lipsto your …
Untitled #154 (2015)
i’m setting up a wireless router for work,and every time i fuck it up: paperclip in the hole for ten seconds factory reset like nothing happened try again. again. now i’m half a block from itrunning diagnostics on …
Untitled #152 (2015)
the wind has died downpush your bangs from your eyeswipe the sweat from your brow deep breathsavor the plunge will come againthe roar will be again deep breath breathe touchbreathebe
Untitled #150 (2015)
for all the push,for all the better,for all the good I’ve done me. at night when I long for someone else’s touch I turn over, tired.
Untitled #15 (2014)
The low winds moan,and I’ve not yet taken off my coat,‘cause we’re young, love,and poor,the house has drafts,the heat’s on low,but while the frost is beatin’ at the windows, love,we’ve got these mile-high blankets,these mounds of pillows ‘n fabric crags,comforter caves and little whistlin’ holes to the outside world. Beneath those …
Untitled #148 (2015)
distance is just an obstacle, Dead-Beat, Irredeemable. Kasia, Buckwheat, Purity. words keep winding wildtossing their sneakers at the porchlosing socks ‘n shorts ‘n shirts ‘n the restuntil they stand stark, naked, alone,cowing the rest of thought into silence. distance is just an obstacle. neither of us knows just how long we’ve been …
Untitled #146 (2015)
I’m toe-tappin’ to fantasy,uptempo a bit,for the dance of it, but I, I, I just don’t know,if I’m standin’ aisle-side,or sittin’ in the pews.
Untitled #145 (2015)
it’s a bit like jumpin’ ship, ain’t it? there ain’t a bone in your bodyachin’ *for* the drink,but here we arestandin’ on railprayin’ the wake ain’t hidin’ danger. but it ain’t like we’re strangerto fixin’ problems,‘n sometimes you jump.
Untitled #143 (2015)
just playing with sentence shapes.
