October 2011
96 posts
escriptor:
This is a sentence. This is another sentence. This is a third. Four words per sentence. Today, I renounce length. No more frivolous adjectives. Simple sentences, simple thoughts. Intricate in meaning, precise.
September 2011
96 posts
2 tags
love hold this
my breath
so we can swim
i’m done with hands
i’ll hold your breath
so then we can
5 tags
Rain Makes Skin
so
this
small
nice
rain
to make
gutters
talk
say
clouds
blush. calmly
wash.
dripping
red
eyes
watch
read right
shush.
listen.
dripping
head
laughing
tapping
tin tin tin
tin tin
ceiling
wraps
this
small
nice
rain
makes
skin
4 tags
Thought Poverty
all the pictures
of you! in front of your computer
no less claiming you have no future; admit
you think you’re poor and
ninety-nine percent agree
4 tags
Great Lakes
the yawns you get, i
give arms without the
moon, eyes close lighter
just before the sun
legs kick, centers shift
gravity flexes and
conflicting dawns from
under different drawn
string tight hoods
dream of the same bitty space
between the Great Lakes
3 tags
Wind In Your Veins →
lincolnneal:
happy california fox oh ghost you go
forest frost footprint and squealing
vole and you a comet burning
holes in the whole of ole californee
through cold water
in a crick you splash mad as a fish
running through the
fleets of fat grackles
in the mist (morning sun is
coming sure as the…
2 tags
fair, i split
copper from oxygen
but what conducts, it pulls and spits
electricity like pants of air
3 tags
Most, Justly
… Can’t write about love, sex, and love and sex in metaphor all the time. Just mostly.
3 tags
Broken Feet
so many broken
feet all stuck in
candy bone
strengthening boots.
i saw some. walking
home. one or two.
three or four. some in groups.
hobblers limping together each with
two broke feet at least.
how did they
break them! i worried some. some
had more than two. i spent
halloweens dreaming
of a world with candy corn shoes. see
amongst other things dreams
do come true.
11 tags
4 tags
Lichen, Moss, Figs
the lichen you— the morning
with rain— gave me the moss—
wraps more green
than the bag a day you collect— i
keep by the bed— you, me
before— an umbrella— glowed by—
— this morning, finally— under
the awning with blue ribbon, bag of
lichen and moss on the bedside: a tummy full of different figs
bit in half then squeezed to show
...
2 tags
we yell
our names forward
left-handed and backwards
right and you ask if
i’m picking you up pen
in each hand and our silly
paper, swells
4 tags
wide eyed
kindly you laugh
my fear finds all scary or not
sounds most
fall out of ears i fall beneath
beside i fall inside such happy mouths
4 tags
The Stick On Your Arm
the picture
of the stick on
your arm is
pretty neat
oh! and drawn with
a bone— i say things
it means— it says everything is
pain but bones is pens—
3 tags
stress
wish guess— make
smile, nervous mess
shake the best
4 tags
Welcome
well received,
newest
next of
sister, dear
smart love, know-nothing
(so
many remember
luck is only before)
means many things
and it’s pretty
anything luckily
literally (after
we sing and sing and
beat our leg like wings) life earns
no pause;
bright moments count just temperature
in degrees
of luckiest to be be welcome be be be and the world
is pretty in it?
2 tags
Day Breaks
Induce
Labor—
soften the—
—cervix— Pitocin—
if it doesn’t
Work
Break
her water— they
— Break water?
/
these things do not
speak of themselves— birthing
and being— if they did.
oh, if they did speak
different words
for what
create— these
would apply— like what Makes—
Art tells how to say—...
4 tags
Breakfast Table
light pours
through! the window is
a
ladle of
lazy sun— day burns warm a snuzzle
i trust you slept
well— grapefruit, juiced
fresh— darling— that smell! what are you wearing? the
newspaper crinkles
4 tags
It’s all in
the sound. A song.
Seldom a song. It should
/
be a song— made of
particulars, wasps,
a gentian— something
immediate, open
/
scissors, a lady’s
eyes— waking
centrifugal, centripetal
The Poem, William Carlos Williams
3 tags
Dark September Green
no kidding
when the sun goes
fast, there is no
jesting, but we do
around the buildings
/
september blinks, the lights
go out in ribbons of
extinguishing electric
pops in plaited rhythm
until all is dim
/
one building pop pop
pop, and two she knows — walking
then riding— there is no fear
of popping lightbulbs—
not on this street— nor that one— the
city...
3 tags
5 tags
Head From The Neck Down
i see red i see
black. i see shapes
stick out
needle-drawn i see legs,
arms. i see a head
from the neck down
6 tags
That Simple
how do you
pronounce that that’s simple
that that’s
funny i’ll bet this rose
will know and
that’s that
4 tags
Different Snakes
different snakes
live together under
rocks and shed
the bed,sleeping on
curves of this and that
til no one knows
who is who or what is right or who
is left
5 tags
Cleaning Shrimp
I think of what the Great Shrimp will say as He holds me in His Great Claw over the Great Boiling Pot.
“What were you thinking about when you pulled the legs off of all those shrimp?”
“Fucking.” I think He knows.
“So will I.”
5 tags
PROPOSAL
poorphraser:
To make a word plural,
you just add an ‘s’.
.
To make us a plural,
you just add a ‘yes’
3 tags
What Time Is It There
what time is there, it
is horse manure smells, it
is sweet there the rain floods everything, it
doesn’t seem to stop. the rain ends
the flood stays and horses clomp
Queue
Four in the bucket. Also, I have some prose to post soon. I thought I was too busy. I guess that isn’t true. I’ll lurk a bit. Hope everyone is having a good night :)
3 tags
Curtains, Interrupted
all i remember were
the curtains gauzie and
cream and heavy with
wire and starch. curtains
meant so much, so much
more than charlie sheen
roasts and goldfish races,
skinned elboes and postcards
from florida with oranges everywhere.
even more than short shorts
night at the beaver and anthropomorphic
surfing pitchers of beer (which i
like to think of as attacked
by sharks and drinked)
...
2 tags
3 tags
Music. Um. What Am I Feeling?
I’m feeling very very. Slightly Wilco. Weirdly Vampire Weekend. I haven’t been to Cape Cod in years. I still feel like leaving Wolcott, though. I’d rather be in Wellfleet. I think Green Is the Colour fits my mood best. From the soundtrack to More by Pink Floyd.
3 tags
Read, Wake, Sleep
Peurile Sleep & Sea Abilene
6 tags
Shall We Watch A Movie?
lets watch a
movie about us
lets call it a night
you can judge a bar
by the cigarette butts
but i judge it by the
spit on the ground
pun equals
skill fucking
well is pure luck in
order to you i write like
dressing up, odd angles
to be put. i’m never scared
unless i’m squared like
there’s 16 of me instead
of four of them,
dancing dosados
and rectangles...
5 tags
My Second Favorite Bird →
lincolnneal:
no crow. i’ll ask
what you are up
to later. sometime
when cement isn’t
your best friend when
you peck it while the
others call out cat food
cat food. i suppose i love crows. the way they
walk with their wings in the
pockets of their skirts
and how they know your face and why you chase
…
5 tags
Dance Like Rectangles
it
fits
so no
nothing
scares i’m
number
16 nothing
scares me we go do si do
there’s only four when we go dancing
like rectangles
most
often we
square
oh, the math.
4 tags
Your Cool Little Coat
lincolnneal:
a wooden four foot giraffe hat-rack
and it’s understanding eye.
things like that are good for boys.
so we learn to hang up our cool little coats.
4 tags
Your Voice
your voice
like an
impersonation
of an old radio man
reminds me how
nicotine keeps
you thin, butt
and bones and whisper
love to your escaped
blue-eyed
tied up dog under the table
6 tags
How You Make Paper
“…It is difficult breast feeding with another child around. Not that Lincoln minds, but sometimes he chooses the times when i’m breast feeding to be balky, or he’ll be charging around the house in his exuberant four year old way and I think it inhibits my milk flow. I swear, when Lincoln hit four his energy level went shooting up! Also, the questions started—...
My sister is about to have a baby. One week from today. That beautiful and most welcomed occasion teases out odd artifacts from under the floorboards. Things like stuff my mother wrote about about us, my sister and I, when we were little. One letter just kind of popped up today. A letter she wrote right when my sister was born and I was tear-assing around the house at age four. We’re all...
3 tags
We Leave No Smoke Behind
we. duly
leave no smoke. we stay in.
we leave. we don’t eat
money we create
nor use energy or blink we leave
cause for display dully
unchanged duly if
not eating we must
always best most
at least
kissing someway
3 tags
09.13.11, 11:13pm, Little Plane
the moon is
yours you fly little
bug and make high your
fat noise in wide circles i hear you second but
see you first beat the moon’s game far above the fence
Advice:
vulgivagus:
If you see your mouth in front of you guard your teeth If you see your mouth behind you bind your tongue.
5 tags
My Second Favorite Bird
no crow. i’ll ask
what you are up
to later. sometime
when cement isn’t
your best friend when
you peck it while the
others call out cat food
cat food. i suppose i love crows. the way they
walk with their wings in the
pockets of their skirts
and how they know your face and why you chase
them away armed with hay. they’re smarter
with their square windows and tools
and...
3 tags
American Pictures
http://www.amazon.com/American-Pictures-Personal-Journey-Underclass/dp/8798170201
this is one of my favorite books. absolutely no doubt. i read it growing up, an old torn up copy. it is a perfect book. and it still makes sense. i’m shocked it is so expensive these days but whatever. it is worth it. you can actually read it online, but it loses its anima. you may want to check it out just in...
1 tag
the moon is huge tonight! it makes smile, as we say :)
6 tags
Solar Flares No Doubt
A drive is occasionally more than that. A drive is an attempt. An attempt to do something new and different. An attempt to do something differently. Something new. An attempt to be seen by eyes by which you wish to be watched. A drive is a bit more than an exercise. It isn’t just pulling a wheel like a weight. It isn’t just the curl of the heel of your hand as it fits on the shift. A...
4 tags
Art is pointless?
Your point is artless.
6 tags
Your Typewriter Is Cute
i’m wondering
should i always
poetry-for-money
girl (i didn’t buy one) think
should i have wondered
what twenty is
truly worth