September 22, 16

What this poet calls slippery, what I call smart. Like it matters, like I’m not / pulling rent money out of a dog’s ass. // I was wrong. I want everything. I want to be fucked like the wife who waited / for her soldier’s return, fucked: the island...Read More  »

September 15, 16

The I / the guy / retouched / like a billboard / or some kink / you crossed / the line / into bearded / disappearance / you know / that I would / serve the club / mortal and / corrupt Read More  »

September 7, 16

perhaps the limits of my erotic imagination are boring and predictable // but I will die grateful // for the adolescence I got to have offline // that pines sometimes obscured the view // was entirely the point Read More  »

August 31, 16

I’m not the same as myself // I’m not the opposite of myself // I’m downstream from the values of some ancient warrior class that got to decide what men and women are / Not that they knew they were doing it Read More  »

August 25, 16

These are the things I did with the stick: / chewed it, waved it to the sky, poked myself / in the eye, pretended it was a daisy, pretended / it was an orchid, a tulip, lily, cigarette, / made it into a gun and shot my brother, nudged my brother to...Read More  »

August 17, 16

the person I love / has a yellow spot in his eye / if he closes that eye several states away / does it still exist // the bells were ringing / when I left the building / this time that they’re saying / it doesn’t exist Read More  »

August 10, 16

unforld mye folde / lik / a chylde debarkynge the old / treee / ekspektynge a hole / mye fase 2 the flore / off a feeld / becums me / wut is / a hole if not a thynge 2 emptie Read More  »

August 3, 16

(code of) a black cat projected onto a white wall / (code of) a 404 Not Found projected onto a white cat / (code of) a flower painting projected onto a glass wall // (code of) my brother projected onto his daughter / (code of) my mother projected...Read More  »

July 29, 16

In the opposite of woods, in the red ever, I am hungry and you are. // I used to have this job, the bodies entered all at once in a line, towing their essentials. / Workers left, as I, it’s hard to say whether it was for love. Read More  »

July 21, 16

I haven’t yet begun to use metaphors. / It’s still raining. I don’t use metaphors. / My heart is black and quiet. / My heart has not yet begun to beat. // the horror / the horror Read More  »


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