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Literature Text
the smoke beneath your bed finally finds you
staring crooked in broken mirrors
searching frantically
for the fire of your former features
forever and ember
still breath and false starts
'til it whispers
sure
the universe is big business
constantly expanding
but the fact of (the) matter is
it desires you deposit d.n.a.
demanding genetic building blocks
on which to lay its foundation
and though the future of father's daughters
is
certainly uncertain
the sun set's assured
eventual
consumption
of
everything
meanwhile
I'm eagerly anticipating the arrival
of the non-linear one-liner
something like:
yes it all implodes in infinity
but buildings retain their names anyway
or
mountains and their silhouettes sit still
yet oppose portraits on general principal
opinions vary
the stars think they're brilliant
the general population favors vague impressions
and
most allow the words
(to escape unnoticed)
staring crooked in broken mirrors
searching frantically
for the fire of your former features
forever and ember
still breath and false starts
'til it whispers
sure
the universe is big business
constantly expanding
but the fact of (the) matter is
it desires you deposit d.n.a.
demanding genetic building blocks
on which to lay its foundation
and though the future of father's daughters
is
certainly uncertain
the sun set's assured
eventual
consumption
of
everything
meanwhile
I'm eagerly anticipating the arrival
of the non-linear one-liner
something like:
yes it all implodes in infinity
but buildings retain their names anyway
or
mountains and their silhouettes sit still
yet oppose portraits on general principal
opinions vary
the stars think they're brilliant
the general population favors vague impressions
and
most allow the words
(to escape unnoticed)
Literature
jamais
the truth, as staunch and without ornament
as I can make it,
is that I did not want your love,
your voice rattling like the hoary whispers
of stars;
your dreams (rustling like cattails
and half-extended to meet mine)
were as foreign to me
as moonlight, concealed
in its various robes.
your sucking fireflies,
neon mothish words meant to draw me in,
flurried uselessly about me.
but now that your attempted eloquence
is more akin to the wick of a lamp,
charred and drowning in oil,
I may vaguely nod my head.
Literature
a song burns dust in our sleep
girlhood falls from my shoulders, a
peeling burn chilled by
the heaviness of sun.
though the burn stings it holds
a past mistake in its red wake--
one i remember in a rollercoaster
of bat calls and shudders
rushing under my nose--
forest caves bending to
refract the light balanced
by the mouth where he sleeps.
my chest decays and regenerates
with each slow peal of laughter
ringing in the middle of
forget-me-always city;
where lights burn brightest
in the air of sureness and curves,
mouths shaking and tired
but dazzling.
(rapidly in-love,
heartily falling asleep
under the oblivious fingers of
walkways too o
Literature
gasoline+sentimental sobriety
she wants a tattoo of a
dozen wax paper boats
fluttering up
the cobbles of her indecency
a disappointing rainbow of
gasoline and sentimental sobriety
but she'll have to settle
for the word
toy
written on her wrist in bold
and the truckload of
testosterone-fueled boys
who confirm everything in her
pretty
little
head
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Comments65
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Hi.
I think your first stanza is about me.
How did you know?
I think your first stanza is about me.
How did you know?