I did not want to be here (again): thinking only and always of where you could be where you will be where I might go and pretend to study, just to feel your small blaze as you walk through the room. it is childish, probably unhealthy; I might justify obsession in the name of love,… Continue reading poem: the third boy (but i swear it’s different this time)
Tag: alone
poem: confessions of a teenage elitist
i like being misunderstood. but i am not that complicated: i think am better than you because i think about grand things in the shower and you only stare and smile, your eyes drained out, your mind running clear and fast and going nowhere. i have various complexes: childhood trauma, childhood poverty, childhood isolation. i… Continue reading poem: confessions of a teenage elitist
poem: small chronicle of living in my head
silent, silent girls play at depression, play at deep aching wounds: as we really saw battles, as if our mothers died and our fathers went mad; as if we were raped on cement floors outside cities, men standing at the door and sharing cigarettes. but, really, these girls are too fantastic and too normal:… Continue reading poem: small chronicle of living in my head
poem: the other black parade
the pretty people are still alive: the girls in white blouses, the boys being kissed from train-windows. I was alive in aftershock: I had sex with ghosts and wrote love letters to the gods, to the dust motes in my hair. I was waiting for a boy with too pale skin and black eyes… Continue reading poem: the other black parade
poem: not another night alone
these times of year are desperate, are lonely they are spider traps i can't talk myself out of, when it is midnight and the depression is so repressed that pulling it out is de-evolution, fundamentally re-volting to this grand new person i (almost) am. where are the stars at 2 p.m.? i suppose chopin could… Continue reading poem: not another night alone
poem: river flows in you (three steps for love)
i wrote a manual last november: how to fall in love, three easy steps. first, be a ghost, be silent and secret: your lips so dusty that even coughing cracks a new breath. then wait for a boy to uncork into greying Fall days, his eyes splashing wine, his voice nervous and young; while you,… Continue reading poem: river flows in you (three steps for love)
poem: you can publish, but you must use a pseudonym
they call me no-name, little ghost and spirited what-if that runs and dances among the has-beens and will-be's. i have deep holes where my eyes should be, i have a pulsing sticky heart where my mouth should be: I cannot talk, but I can bleed. I can not even claim what is mine as… Continue reading poem: you can publish, but you must use a pseudonym
he was like Japanese anime from the 90’s
he was like Japanese anime from the 90's: he made her melancholy in 2019, her knees pressed up against the computer screen, the little people smiling blandly into their porclein coffee-mugs. she was wearing white-blue jeans, her eyelashes were bleached, and the traffic went by slowly and silently: there is a parade of cars and… Continue reading he was like Japanese anime from the 90’s
poem: tourist
Did the man you met in Hong Kong tell you of the sparkles, falling behind your eyes? Did he tell you that souls are easily distilled into green tea, and tongues can be plucked out and served with monkey-feet and cinnamon as delicacy; that strangers will pay steep money to sit in a tight booth,… Continue reading poem: tourist
poem: they told the girl
they told the girl: you are not going anywhere, you are going to sit in the dark for the rest of your sorry sad life. you are just like a balkan rat, boring out the eyes of your kin, hissing and scratching and screaming in the night, and all the little children, their lacy bare… Continue reading poem: they told the girl
the last pavilion 