it is hard to consider the human condition without considering ourselves overmuch; she has constellations tattoed on her neck but she is finite, a small person never living. we pretend man has galaxies inside his eyelids, that he is endless, but even the poets are stained, their pretended infinity only an echo chamber for the… Continue reading poem: the humanists are narcissists
Tag: the last pavilion
poem: la femme n’est pas l’art
the persephone concepts, pt. 2 all hail the romantics: Persephone left the city and walked into her womb. all hail the romantics: she found him in a graveyard cleaning stones with his tongue she is too much spring, she is lonely. Death is kind to the Female, to the lost, to the waiting and the… Continue reading poem: la femme n’est pas l’art
poem: apology to readers and followers, Feb. 2020
I am sorry that I cannot write conventional things: you would prefer anecdotes about depression and things that are easy to read, where a word is a word is a word. I am sorry that I prefer nonsense; that my poetry is so abstract as to be ineligible that what I think is art… Continue reading poem: apology to readers and followers, Feb. 2020
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)
mixtape: october 1, 2019
{for midnight dance parties, alone.} one. "Blame It on the Girls" & "Lollipop" by Mika. {for french songs so beautiful you stop your homework and stare at the rain and feel aesthetic and slightly in awe. good for writing poetry.} two. "Ne m'appelle pas" by Coeur de pirate. three. "Tout Oublier" by Angèle feat. Roméo.… Continue reading mixtape: october 1, 2019
poem: virgin in the bookstore
see this: a girl draped over her table with moths and green vines all thick and hot inside her, their lisping mouths poking up through her fingernails, their strong buds opening between her legs; she is tightening and turning softly in the chair, softlysoftlysoftlysoftly so that the library people do not hear the rustling of… Continue reading poem: virgin in the bookstore
poem: sad confession put to good music
i am still loving you carefully and cautiously and finally (finally!) the words are pouring out of me like music. they told me: forget, because he will forget. Do not bother to remember the faires breathing small and quick in the cracks of our lives. do not bother, because they die like moths in the… Continue reading poem: sad confession put to good music
poem: almost song lyrics. almost.
i burned my tongue on late november last year, we were still together. and now, lonely girls sit under fake blue moons, twisting their lives into small categories: the before and the after. hey, don't think it's romantic just because of the lo-fi coffee sounds. last year, we were bold and defiant: miniature buddhas bounced… Continue reading poem: almost song lyrics. almost.
poem: what do i call this
I guess I don't need to talk to him because I already know everything he would say. I know when he would roll his eyes, and that I would laugh; and I remember the few times I was charming enough to make him laugh; he threw back his head, all of his pretention going up… Continue reading poem: what do i call this
poem: what is not (lost & found)
I am looking for him everywhere but he is not even in my dreams he is scattered over the snow in kicked-up footprints he is the smudges on the windows when I breathe against the glass, watching my loneliness fog into my fingertips, watching him always not appear. little girl (asked in broken english) why… Continue reading poem: what is not (lost & found)
