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Literature Text
i.
i am the cat with rabies you euthanized.
my happiness comes from
twenty different corners of your mouth -
and more importantly my happiness came
[and you did too] in correspondence
with the stray thunder
hissing and crying at our window.
ii.
i ask you if you have always enjoyed conquering
small countries and small hearts and you say "no" with silence
like i had asked the wrong question.
iii.
i was some kind of naked galaxy before you. i was some
kind of rotwood flute. and now -
i am hollow bones
or unidentifiable blood cells
burrowing my swollen feet in the sands of the moon.
i am the cat with rabies you euthanized.
my happiness comes from
twenty different corners of your mouth -
and more importantly my happiness came
[and you did too] in correspondence
with the stray thunder
hissing and crying at our window.
ii.
i ask you if you have always enjoyed conquering
small countries and small hearts and you say "no" with silence
like i had asked the wrong question.
iii.
i was some kind of naked galaxy before you. i was some
kind of rotwood flute. and now -
i am hollow bones
or unidentifiable blood cells
burrowing my swollen feet in the sands of the moon.
Literature
My First and Last War Poem
When he came back from the war,
all he saw was shrapnel.
Not like the sort on the battlefield,
at home there were no bodies,
there was no thick sticky blood on his hand,
She stood at the beach,
brushed back a strand of hair
a jellyfish washed onto shore.
She knew only the dead were that clear
and it reminded her of the poisonings:
dead cats and dogs curled in balls along the sidewalk
after some jerk littered the doorsteps
steaks marinated in cyanide.
instead, he watched his family,
watched himself at the dinner
table as if he weren't even eating
swallowed the potatoes and wondered
"where is the metallic flavor;"
"where is th
Literature
limit
words are the translations
of lifetimes.
and i speak the invisible architecture
of my body.
there are back-lit hills
in every direction;
dark crests that hold
the inevitability of the sea
on the other side.
recollections go out like
the vapid ribbons of breath,
occupy their origins
as fragments of myself.
i am everywhere
i'll ever be.
ever been.
the other side
is a perpetual expulsion;
is exclusive and perpetrating;
is the establishment of desire.
i follow the iron shove of the river
to the lake, green with cold.
ice rides the water
and the careful geometry of chance
like triangular wax sheets.
they overlap,
hold w
Literature
On Disappointment
I.
Out on the porch, my mother sat in an Adirondack chair, smoking
her first cigarette in ten years. The air was hazy and discolored.
Her wedding ring spun on the table, gathering fallen ashes.
I was on the floor, knees tucked up under my chin, poking sticks
down the cracks. She spoke of lies and imagined bliss.
She tucked her hair behind her ear and sighed.
I listened as my mother explained the complexity of love.
II.
Last night he drove just over the state border. I sat in the car,
feet up on the dashboard, singing with the radio. He looked at me
like he had a secret. He was the sage and I was the fool.
So there we were, lying
Suggested Collections
swords, sex, and danger
OHMY
OHMY
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