girl driving home in a beat-uptoyota with the bare legs of spidermen draped overthe cut glass of her open holes, listeningto hey ho hey i'min love with you / you're in love -- but she always saysthe wrong thing, he finds her in the toiletvomiting blood. she pulls herselfapart / inside like the mountains,the old… Continue reading poem: colorado rich girl
Author: elizabeth claire
poetry for the desperate and the romantic. university student, bored out of her mind.
writing: hunger and boys and poetry
There was a storm coming and she had run six miles and she was not hungry. She sprawled on the couch and ached pleasurably, but her stomach was ringing hollow. I am going to vomit, most likely. Why the fuck am I not hungry? Why the fuck? It was six miles. The last time her… Continue reading writing: hunger and boys and poetry
poem: atonement is the name of a book
I can feel the surge inside me -- water coming up from the underneath; people sneering, poland subdued-- I would wait for my lover at the window, in a green dress, but how can I if I cannot manage a morning routine? -- depressionis a modern invention, generation z does notneed our grandmothers' ecstasy, we… Continue reading poem: atonement is the name of a book
poem: almost empty cafe with ugly people
I remember reading -- Raskolnikov paused at his university, his old life spired against the clouds; he was thinking likeNikolai not thinking and rushing charge-lineagainst napeleon; he was thinking, the old me the oldme the old me -- he sat in a cafe with no faces, the women sleeping under the tables and men writingpoetry… Continue reading poem: almost empty cafe with ugly people
poem: Angelika waited for Henri on the sidewalk
she felt that anything that happened; that had happenedpast highschool -- was notreal -- she had three dollars and 81 in the account; she kept herhair in a white ribbon in a queue; she romanticized the vomit on her bathroom floorlike she romanticized her cafe-haunts and the blackcoffee, Listz at breakfast and during poetryreadings and… Continue reading poem: Angelika waited for Henri on the sidewalk
poem: love poem to internet aesthetics
I can't imagine --a fairer day to love You, thantoday -- the sun is white on the tiles, the statues are made-up likeprostitutes and in the centerof the universe old men sitand talk -- about atomics, aboutwoman, does a form exist independentlyof the concept? In Rome, they do not botherto answer; they make mad love… Continue reading poem: love poem to internet aesthetics
poem: woman vs. truth
his future was in his face,mine is in my crouch: a laundry-listof menial prostitution, bracketing the old crushesand old trauma and old men (hoveringaround the desk, watchingme work). i am reselling myselfday by day, in twenty-twenty-one,trauma is profittrauma is business. he thought he was terriblyoriginal: pretty boy, fucking the systemand then me after. next timei… Continue reading poem: woman vs. truth
poem: reading crime and punishment for the #dark academia aesthetic
the Dmitri fuckers are in the city again; I shouldknow, I am their principal leader and follower and the sole member of a society dedicatedto unreality. I say Leningrad -- and he sayssay Petersburg say Petersburg and then coughs up bloodinto my hand. I say Cambodia -- and he sayssay genocide say genocide saygenocide, but… Continue reading poem: reading crime and punishment for the #dark academia aesthetic
poem: savoir complex in maine
he was the summer crashed and crushedinto a boy who did not exist yet; and i remember a noveli was going to write -- about a girl with salted longhair, riding her bikealong seaside cliffs and a boy with black -- hair who worked in a bakery and wanted to kill himself. now when i… Continue reading poem: savoir complex in maine
poem: the coffee-shop people
the lights in the coffee-shop are plaguelights; the orange faces of men neutered and hung upsidedown. i am the lonely one, sitting at one of fifteen tables round like breastsand remembering why i studied in university to suchan extent that i had only casual friends; people that collided into my bodylike accidents; and i spent… Continue reading poem: the coffee-shop people
