-
objective correlative
when i read a short story, i don't think it is as any more contrived as life itself. so when there's a boy who decides to steal a watch, i don't think: it's a metaphor for trying to capture lost time, going back in time, etc. it could've been candy if he had a sweet tooth.
shallow insight, on laziness' part. -
for desserts
nothing tastes more bitter than your own [sweet] words x-(
... bleccccccccccch.
-
(Untitled)
callin me high on the telephone. came by plane all alone ( Read more... ) -
what do i know about you?
Ode to the Soap
CLEAN
in one thousand milligrams
filling the vestibule
to my innards
of nothing
and the far-away
The manufactured mystery
muted,
fluxed,
tenuous silence
swallowed by echoes
The child
in white innocence
makes irridescent globes
to float;
to fall;
to dry-
a layer thinner
half coalesced
into flesh
In bitter lather
the final film slides
down the ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
The cherry blossoms outside my art classroom give me so much delight. They are beautiful in June. Sometimes I think of you.
-
wasting my time in the waiting line
http://images.blogthings.com/howquirkyareyouquiz/quirky-4.jpg
You're so quirky, it's hard for you to tell the difference between quirky and normal.
No doubt about it, there's little about you that's "normal" or "average
How">http://www.blogthings.com/howquirkyareyouquiz/">How Quirky Are You?
before i die, i should've:
1. organized a revival of the ( Read more... ) -
and it was all yellow
When you’re down to your white house brassiere that you’ve had since you were a freshman-in high school and anti-Christ shorts bishops around the world would move for mass burning, you know you it is the summer. No matter the neighbors enjoying the live show (I would much rather they feast on this article) after you’ve drawn all the curtains up, ( Read more... ) -
this is fridge poetry
The light bends at perfect angles
Just beneath the pool in your eyes
To fill your gray spots
The shafts play a dance
And for a moment I see
Under the yellow I watch as you turn blue
But you are lost inside of me
And it is easy to give up
How many are there of your kind? -
The Last Moon-Game of Summer
summer vacation is ending. while the moon is still large, we decide to play another moon-game, the last this summer. jorge offers to go to his house to get buckets filled with water. as he's leaving, my cousin shouts, "Go help Jorge!" she's been teasing me ever since our last moon-game when jorge held my hand. i'm burning with humiliation, but ( Read more... ) -
here and now sounds so much better
This is a city for not sleeping
and the clocks are set by feel.
At this moment from where I sit,
none of it seems real.
