#posetry

[proseandprenension]

[gardendeath]

I am nothing but edges, teeth grinding, nail biting, trying to soften, but only stifling the parts of me still growing. like, how i ignite something to put the fire out. at least there is always this, the sun rising in beautiful hues before bleeding into blue; tears drying, heart returning to a dull, low blood pressure hum; At least there is still life despite all the dead parts of me.

[gardendeath]

the way we communicated lip to lip; cheek to nose, breath exchanging breath that summer i learned a new language. one that i still think in, at all sorts of hours, always times especially your lips should not be on my mind your teeth, digging, biting; ‘youre too rough,’ youd say, i was trying to return your path-making teeth teases, but of course, i do not possess your grace your way of paving spaces that are safe homes upon homes, always building, you know all those nooks and crannies the boogies cant get to, they are still just walls that i will tap my hello how are yous to you Knock. knockknock, i will learn your new language, your new morse code explanation, and the next one after that.

[ice-cream-books]

Green Migraine by Michael Dickman with 3 scoops of Van Leeuwin Artisan Ice Cream Macha Green Tea. Cover by Phil Kovacevich.  

[microscopicblab]

GET ME STANDINBURGER

From now to our first date is the distance from Clinton playing sax on Arsenio to the end of Vietnam and by the way you listening to the Cure now = Dad listening to Glen Miller in 1980. We can argue about whether these new things salvage the older things Or we can just watch nowness popping its coils, a jack in the box constantly celebrating thenness.

[microscopicblab]

WORTH A TRY

Take picks, chisel away at the sallow air, the frozen fat render it best you can but there's your girlfriend, her car.  

[microscopicblab]

MIRACLE PARTIES

Andrew said there was supposed to be a bmx thing Well, I rode to where it was supposed to be and from the top of the hill the whole place was empty fields and the black road beyond hissing quietly in the rain

I hate the nothing way of the world the way it makes me feel my blood  I will blame Andrew when I see him

When I grow up, I will host miracle parties we'll all gather, me and my friends and the hot girls on top of this mound I will spin the world  like how you spin a potter's wheel, pedaling sitting up here, one leg stretched to the field below

[microscopicblab]

LDS NEEDS AN ETSY

I want to start an Etsy says the copywriter LDS needs an Etsy.  We cannot! hang  a Liz Lemon Swindle over the tulip chair a glossy pic of Moroni over the Noguchi!

Marilu Henner has a photographic memory May 3, 1986: A Cabbage White butterfly winks  through the forty-first floor window of her hotel room.  The temperature is sixty-two

Let's pretend we're hot and important and that a skill is more than something to obsess over while we each march the long diagonal down