#shefrolics

[vagabondcitylit]

shefrolics said: Nice intro. Got me pumped. Holding it to read in bed tonight.

Thank you! We hope you enjoy.

[shefrolics]

5

Annotated Peoples Make Connections: if they walked around in love/for love/by love with SFX labels to their chests

His hand is on the latch as I latch onto his mirage. I think picket fences and Tom appears or Huck. White-washed. No water passes through these slabs. He says, open or doom. Says, room or perish. I would have circled the picket in zen. Or stopped as an O, away, taking in. My friend, auditioner for Avenue Q, has no clear idea of the profanity of rules. Move along she muppets, the voices of New Yorkers pushing through. The sign lofts high, as his eyes audit, ender of worlds, ender of traffic footing what was once a street corner. I put my hand on his hand on his latch. Is there room in this square, I ask? Prophet says, do not question but know: a migraine is a gate. See God in this intestifiying point of light beyond the foreground of Earth, tight as orbits. Sweat oozes the buffer, the pores of fences under the picketing heat. Protesting the flow of water past dead wood resembling asylum walls, Tao Te Ching limns the fool-hardiness of a members-only club. My hand on your hand into the life-jacket washed white for launch. You say it is to help them spot us in the clearing. In the cleaving of gravity. I scrunch my hands to ease the premature imitation of flight. Flames must near the skin, along the fence, until it surrounds us as everybody chop-sticks downstreet. Surrender, and the migraine appears, pouring, a cult of light poison, chime goes the hand ruffle. A raffle, a raffle, prizes for the beyond. Your hand on my clench on the latch.

-5 Haley Always riadovoidostoevsky

[deaflepuff]

Add me to the Deaf masterpost please!

On it! :D

[shefrolics]

-e.e. cummings' poem about Tumblr

[shefrolics]

title: Influences ; Haley Always

[shefrolics]

The dark a time of visionaries to swoop down on words The owl when she woke was hungry writing a meal how the bird feeds

A future lengthy poem by Haley Always

[unknowmenclature]

the sugar gravitas of a UFO

shefrolics

the earth’s bowels a cereal’s bowl, a lash exiled but to currenting comforts; it seeks to return as sugary feature, dissolved already the strongest color a pink now I wait too long for, these lucky charms, end mushly, in an acid vastness, also not so much win for the molar, the clink of metal repeats upon plastic most are aware of, the evacated earth must sound so loud to them, and I have had to learn to lift as sole shuffles must separate from the grounded grounding quiet, does the vat center feed itself to bursting? self-light, the strongest color freeing lumen-orange from without, without spoonfuls to reduce the off chance of balance tipping that planet, tipping what rolls red

—

I’m mesmerized by how the words bounce off each other here, send you straight into the poem. I’m also super intrigued by the comparison of Earth and cereal, the chaos and colors, and I keep going back to the opening lines “the earth’s bowels a cereal’s bowl, / a lash exiled but to currenting comforts.” Givin’ this 5 ice cube potlucks outta 5!