it's that time again! →
last year, and the year prior, i did what i call “a retrospective introspective” -or- a year in review. if you have had a blog for more than a year, or keep a consistent journal, or take a lot of pictures - this part is easy. here’s the rules: separate the year into months (1-12) summarize that month by its major defining qualities/events. find a picture (or 3, if you do...
…who said it was the fucking Earth’s moon… …i;ve been...– zev, verbatim, when asked my he did not post 28 poems in 28 days based on the moon cycle.
a fortune cookie moment.
i go to a chinese place with a very extensive vegetarian menu, which makes me believe that they have good karma, therefore i hold their fortune cookies in higher esteem. tonight, my mother and i were talking about my upcoming feature in brooklyn (january 2nd) and competition at the nuyorican poet’s cafe (january 8th.) she takes the cookie shaped like the bottom half of a very obese woman...
i sink into another man’s pillow you feel the soft spot of your grandson’s head harden in your hands.
brianomnidillon: sarahroseparty: an overwhelming desire to stay in bed; esp. on a snowy (or rainy) day i must have clinomanitis.
i want to go vegan (again)
i figured if i wrote it here the big bad internet might hold me to it. (and you)
what bout little microphones? what if everyone swallowed them, and they played...– jonathan safran foer, extremely loud and incredibly close.
“day after day, meat eaters try to discredit ethical veganism with an astonishing array of pseudo-philosophical protests, but the recurring assertion that “Plants have feelings, too” is particularly vexing — mainly because it’s so transparently insincere. Think about it: Why are meat eaters so remarkably resistant to recognizing the horrific suffering of “food” animals, yet simultaneously...
you bend a straw in brooklyn & my knuckle cracks in another continent
one of the few christmas songs that doesn’t...
I'VE NEVER BUILT AN IGLOO.
how i want to.
where does the blue sky go at the end of the day?
to the nightclub! she slips into her wettest, blackest dress.
When was Heaven desegregated?…Why don’t they build black people with...– Jeffery McDaniel
me: have you finished your christmas shopping?
sean: nope. didn't get you anything.
me: sounds about right.
sean: well i don't know what you want.
me: i'm easy.
sean: sounds about right.
for writing exercises, look no further. →
rachel mckibbens, gods gift to stasis.
megan, thanks for hanging out with me. i needed you. <3 rachel.– rachel mckibbens, as signed in my copy of her new book, pink elephant.
memories from ocean city maryland, 1997
i built a sand castle for a Queen Jellyfish held in my palm. assured her, this castle knows nothing of hammerhead sharks, fighting, or divorce. due to her translucency it would appear i am talking to my own hand. my brother marches over a monarch with a plastic shovel, saws my queen in equal halves. leaves me, laughing with two parts putty and an irrelevant kingdom. later, in the souvenir shop...
this poem changed my [write/]life.
brianomnidillon: Love in an Ice Cream Truck Yesterday, I took a walk downtown. It was winter everywhere, except for the inside of my mouth. I saw an ice cream truck parked on 3rd Avenue. The man inside drew me toward his window with a whistle that reminded me of the noise a peacock makes. He had good-looking lips, which always gets to me, so I gave him an attitude, “Who the hell’s gonna...
still my favorite thing i’ve done with video-media. [new zealand really did move this fast.]
you are a shadow my body leaves on other girls.– jon sands.
intangiblecollective: INTANGIBLE SEMI-FINAL SLAM! where: PORT 41 in midtown. when: thursday, december 17th @ 8pm. why: watch intangible poets tracy soren, james merenda, and ben couch, as well as other poets jahnilli, lizzy fox, tovah, alexandra zimmerman, and phoenix compete for a spot in the GRAND SLAM (joining megan falley (intangible) and jared singer!) ALSO * FEATURING JON SANDS* come...
porn that empowers women. [wHAatat!!!] →
[watch on mute, to your favorite song]
love is a verb, here in my room.
[excerpt of new shit]
your wife knows you have dreamt of making love to me again in your sleep you have broken both hips.
read eden's poems. →
you’ll not be sorry.
live in THIS moment.– fortune cookie.