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
Tag: the last pavilion
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: 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
poem: touya
the boy he told me i don't believe anymore in the rest of my far away life and i told him none of usdo that is the secret everyoneis lonely and no oneis lonely everyone is separateand languishing
poem: shifting
remember? i dreamed aboutthis kind of bliss but now in the pulled-apart strings of myheart there is onlya dull long ache and the aluminum footsteps of heart-burncoming up from my chest like a foreign man crossing overmy seven boarders his handsstill wet. remember? we were going to takethe world i woke you up in the… Continue reading poem: shifting
poem: I have lost reality many times
and yet she always come back, that unreliable bitch. you'd think I could let my organs run off in snot safetyfor several hours and not return to disgusting wherewithal when I shower or finally sleep, as if everything wrong with me was merely situational. I can write claimsin mad tongues that I am also doomed… Continue reading poem: I have lost reality many times
poem: i tell God He has a lot of explaining to do
pain is whati am used to; the baby came outin pieces. do you cryyourself to sleep, at night?sometimes.
poem: introduction to portraiture
this morning i woke up, and ignored thattomorrow i will do soagain; we are in the stages we are not thinkingabout that. again. i have a lotof things i only useonce a week/month, i have a lotof pride. this morningi flossed with crystal floss, i foughtwith my mother. i am so fuckingmad at youright now.… Continue reading poem: introduction to portraiture
poem: that man
winter is invariably winter; people are different people when they wake up in the morning. he stayed lateinside the night 90s computer eyes, 90s animeboy. blink twice it's probablythe matrix; summer is invariablysummer he will walk awaythrough the heat, but nowhe stayed late on the couch lateinto the morning. white snow morningspuffy thin air, animeeyes.… Continue reading poem: that man
the last pavilion 