November 2010
A SMOKER'S VS NON-SMOKERS LUNG.
how the damaged one looks like the calloused paws of a black dog. the clean pair, like two huddled virgins praying over the same muscle.
had i known, i would have taken before and after pictures of this heart, for science.
the Before would hammer on the cold tray table like a salmon out of water, pining for sex. from a distance, they would insist it was dancing.
the After would hardly be...
“I know there is a Never Again
that comes with every Forever.”
– james merenda.
published! →
four poems of mine are now up on vinyl poetry! clickity click click & tell me how you really feel!
1 tag
“The great paradox of the writer’s life is how much time they spend alone trying...”
– Betsy Lerner (via poeticartifacts)
1 tag
DURING THE WEEK I THOUGHT I WAS CARRYING YOUR...
I drowned in the library, searching for what happens when a coyote fucks a labrador. if the pup can be trained to lick the mailman.
Told you that my children would only eat what they could pluck from our backyard. you said do what you want with the daughters, my sons will be bred for blood.
Counted all the stairs from the kitchen to the cellar, sifted through the phonebook for a friend who...
i woke up
to my neighbor cleaning his garage playing 50’s music. it filled the room more like sunlight than sound. when i peeled myself off of my bed and walked to the mirror, i was expecting my hair to be wound in fatter curls, there was no poodle skirt in my closet. i’m still not quite sure who i am.
lessons in love and other such things.
too many things in life are dimming and dull. love is great. do not settle for a mediocre spark just because you are sick of sleeping alone.
adopt a dog so that it can walk you and provide you with a warm, loving home.
being single is a fucking gift. do not trade it for anything in the world. (exception: someone who is so incredible that you have to question whether you are a bat because you...
i thought performing my own poetry in front of hundreds of people was naked. at freak nasty last night, a woman read her poetry… naked, wearing nothing but paint and a thong. does the naked-nakedness of that institute a double negative? was she suddenly wearing a ball gown?
“Once a little boy sent me a charming card with a little drawing on it. I loved...”
– Maurice Sendak (via raptorinside)
“How many women wrote beautiful novels and stories and poems and essays and plays...”
– via MattSiegel, written by Sugar . (via ether-eden)
“the unifying theme is being a warrior and a motherfucker. it is not fragility....”
– -sugar, on woman writers in reaction to the theme of suicides.
dope article. via matt siegel
jonathan asks what's up, megan says
drinking. stalking old lovers with their new lovers. thinking about writing.
The following is a work of fiction. Any... →
three poems of mine published! →
in crescent city review!
and i just sold a CD to new zealand.
i’m going international, bitches ! you can buy it too by clicking hurr.
she&her
1.
when i started writing your love poem i fumbled over the pronouns, considered second person, a “you” with no ears.
thought how she and her might alter the meaning, if the stanzas would have to file their nails or hang rainbow flags between each metaphor.
if i spoke of breasts instead of chest how would a senior high english class characterize the speaker?
would the...
i hope you'll still check back here to read what i...
i had to return it. i don’t want any money back, it’s just not right to own something that doesn’t quite fit.
i could keep it in the dustiest corner of my closet, waiting for me to change, to shrink
and swell in places, but how would that be fair?
i know it could bring the purple out in somebody else’s eyes,
i know there are girls with ears full of pennies, saving up...
three november haikus
halfsister:
i swallowed my pride and apologized to you, seven months too late.
we could have almost carried a baby to term in the time it took
(except for that small bit about the two of us both being women).
halloween makes me think of you
always. something about ghosts.
