lying across icecream sheets and smoking cigarettes, with the glowing nubs held ladylike between fingers like it's the 1920's. he was so perfectly confident among the freaks and they rejected her. anything utopian and egalitarian is a lie. turning on her back with her hair curling onto the mattress and nicotine hissed up under her… Continue reading poem: the artists
Author: elizabeth claire
poetry for the desperate and the romantic. university student, bored out of her mind.
poem: cabin out in Nowhere
wouldn't it be nice if someone was secretly in love with me--- loner, an under-used word in the poet's dictionary, but it tattoos nicely into her softer eyelids fraying, against her cheeks. against her intellect. wouldn't it be nice if someone found my answering all the univere's questions-- adorable--and not awkward-- the shifting impatient eyes… Continue reading poem: cabin out in Nowhere
poem: again
it started again in her later years, when she had only just declared independence. she sat alone (again) and bit her thumb with the intention of blood. at first it was art class with the good conversations spinning away from her like spanish gold and she was too shy to walk from ceramics to drawing… Continue reading poem: again
poem: highschool is over (cheers to this)
i am spinning in a blue dress and to first follow him i must be all of myself, not for the matriarchy but for my small ascendence into what He envisioned. this is not high school: strangers will smile at you, later, i promise. Also, listen: the depression and the choas will not go away… Continue reading poem: highschool is over (cheers to this)
poem: ghost
this is the ghost. sitting with my tongue sour and pressed against my teeth; writing five bad essay sentences and stopping to stare out the inside window. how the hell do people have so many friends? this is the ghost. no longer can I tell if I was in love with the symbol, with the… Continue reading poem: ghost
poem: war + peace, scarlett o’hara, plato (& her)
I have known too much to be secure in what I have known. Even I am sick of this narrative: here is the danger-warning, so listen: rewriting the narrative inside your head so that what happened happened differently is (please don't make me finish this face this). long sigh, and tucking the hair behind my… Continue reading poem: war + peace, scarlett o’hara, plato (& her)
poem: it will not change the fact
It will not change the fact that I Like you and I think you’re brilliant and I read Your article, and you were flippant But there was an Emotional core and I felt you inside the automated print I Felt you And since then, since I have read that, I Cannot properly leave you because… Continue reading poem: it will not change the fact
poem: a dead blog
definition: a dead blog. as this platform has been since the publication of this poem. i have no proof but a strong terrible feeling. i guess i thought art was supposed to be controversial and say the unsayable things. 2018: don't bother with revolution unless your manifesto is politically-correct.
poem: c++ [i do not write love poems anymore]
#include <iostream> i will just rewrite things nicely inside me and rewire the currents and de-bug the code so that int main () { he was not my second love or the first boy he was just he was just endl; he was nothing. he was a flux of my self-projection and a tightly labeled… Continue reading poem: c++ [i do not write love poems anymore]
poem: all this is [now] redundant
everytime i hear footsteps i think it is [him] but i look up and of course i am wrong he does not belong to me [anymore] so why am i waiting for him to come back to me. there is too much grey in tiled hearts i am just bored i am a female anomaly… Continue reading poem: all this is [now] redundant
the last pavilion 