She worked in the archives of a small college university for a year. At first, she used a little vacuum to clean the dust from the delicate pages of ancient, crumbling books for eight hours a day. She loved teh work, carefully, slowly hovering over a wealth of knowledge, having the power to [...]
all come to me
in search
of love.
It starts
as an inkling
a quiet need
that blossoms
rapidly into obsession,
into passion. It blossoms
only to wilt. Why can’t
I quit using the word,
why can’t I leave it
behind to the archives.
I want to cut thru the air
like a knife. I want to feel
sweat evaporate. You forgot
time and time again that I [...]
She woke up. The sky was so blue she thought she could cut a piece of it off and suck on it. She thought it would dissolve bit by bit in her mouth. It would sustain her.
Years ago, she woke up, too. She woke to find wings had sprouted from her [...]
You have to see this, a photo collage on NYT that has pictures of every soldier killed in Iraq. Too moving. Here is a poem.
These dead
We have all been
a tomb
for your ashes,
you men and women
we will never know.
Where are your accolades, where
is your coffin? I never saw
any evidence of your existance,
save for [...]
It is too hot to write,
and my ex best friend
is talking about me to
people she knows I do
not like,
my dog is chewing
on things she shouldn’t,
and I am hungry,
I should just go and get
in the shower.
I need to go for a run,
or go and clean
the dishes
in the sink
there is money I have yet
to spend and
my sleep [...]
I got saved, throwing myself on the cheap ply-wood altar railing
along with a girl who I practiced making out with in dark basements.
I’ll never forget the catch in my grandmother’s voice that night
after the christmas pagent, in her car, alone. She said that she’s always
worried that no one else could come with her
to [...]
I am
creativly
self-destructive.
I wake in the morning
and remember
cold steel
against skin;
splitting flesh
on my ankle
and thigh;
lines of shining,
red and white
pills on the edge
of my mother’s
kitchen dounter
and an endless
glass of water;
walking home
stumbling
drunk in the dark
alone, arms
around
my neck and waist
not fighting,
pleading for
the real end.
I woke up and knew
you were no longer
a reason
to live
after I drove
away from you
in a midnight
thunderstorm
without
windshield wipers.
I [...]
February 18, 2008
If becoming a grown up
means learning to fear
death, then none of us
here beneath the black
rain are anything more
than children, thrilled
by its approach. See
your young eyes behind
false wrinkles of false
worry, beneath the death
mask you wear in life. Hear
the sound of rain on glass
see the blur of lights so near,
you long for [...]
We were tucked inside a bar
with scarred, dirty tables,
and dirty clientelle. We were
savoring the silence. Snow
was drifting onto the road outside,
and we sipped the sort of wine
that can be used to strip
paint from wood, and watched,
anxiety growing in our chests
like a wooly animal of some sort
trying to claw its way out
of [...]
Last week, we had a staff happy hour, well, a half staff happy hour. Our receptionist and I frequent a bar/resteraunt near the office, one of those edgy, cool, neuvo-retro sorts of places. You know, wood panneling, pot roast on the menu, kitchy drinks. Well, the receptionist couldn’t make it. Two [...]
