Thursday, May 6, 2010
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Reach for the clouds. . .
Tickle your toes. . .
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where are my garden gloves to weed out your evils? where are my rubber gloves to scrub off your stupid? where are my surgical gloves to cut ...
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July 7th the face of a rose deflates our windowsill- not much of a garden. July 8th after the party- a painting is crooked I think someone d...
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a know-nothing non-something, a song, a back-slap, a tree without sap. crowned with ceremony and melancholia- a whistle, a snap. a marriage ...
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my hands are cupped, held up to the light catching nothing, but it feels warm. my eyes squint through broken Coke bottles my future's so...
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So, I'm a sympathetic. But I've decided- Sympathy is reckless. A virtue; punishable. Look at the kind of behavior that it influences...
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The ache in my jaw reminds me of my age, that I'm still cutting teeth on broken sage and giving up meat is my best bet, because I'm ...
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Exhibit A: When this was first documented, I was more flattering of him than I should of been, but it was another reminder of that star-spe...
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July 9th i feel like running again. it's either that or swimming in a valley of tears. July 10th you couldn't tell by looking at us,...
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all is up. a dreamy boy fills your legs with such a torso- he acts like your tongue is hard candy- and the crust in your eyes is cinnamon.
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Urine and Lilies for Pablo Neruda I had an early love for Walt Whitman. I did. He was not by any means a concrete idol, jutting out over the...
I love how the translator totally mocked him in front of 50 people. That's great.
ReplyDeleteLOL! there is some truth to what he said though, don't you agree?
ReplyDeletehttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=skpd4PDJZlU&feature=related
ReplyDeletethere is definitely truth to this...I love it. <3
ReplyDelete