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Poetry

Still Life With Columns

For Diane Lewis WALK UPRIGHT   COUNT TO TENDRAW A LINE       GO TO SLEEPSyllabus atop a stoolUnwilling memento mori. Yorick’s skull just now set down(Like your hand once weighed ideas)Warm erasers, smeared and darkWith residue of angel’s wings Wood and steel and acetoneBloodless, in the backgroundNothing breathing, nothing cold,Smoke escapes beyond the […]

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Poetry

Measuring the Solstice

I started with the solstice but I had to measure it out. Not with carbon hair, nor melting ice,   nor echoes from a siren’s mouth. So I hung Noah’s pants at dawn up on the cliffs facing south, And set the sun only once they had dried out.  

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Poetry

Opposite Dilution

Anyone familiar with painting techniques is familiar with a fundamental principle behind color mixing: not all pigments are created equal. One quickly learns to be very careful mixing dark paint into light paint– even the slightest drop could turn the whole color brown. Conversely, to lighten a dark color, one must add a whole ton […]

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Poetry

The horizon on a Sunday morning

I love the horizon on a sunday morning. i’ve waited a week for this softest of sights, her cloudy lids rising with silver eyeliner. She partied last night with a newly-made lover earth but there is one thing she created on sunday: coffee– and it was only for me. I love the horizon on a sunday […]

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Poetry

Prom Night

I asked the moon out to promby chugging the oily seas where she skinny dipped,I threaded needles through the smallest stars and sewed a velvet sky…But she just rolled her big white eyes.“I need no more big-belted bastards. You’d better be the bashful guy.”So I slimmed back down, thoroughly lady-whipped…It’s a sarcastic universe, mom.

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Poetry

Burp The Baby

Try as I mightI can’t burp the babywho won’t stop eatingPaper.Maybe insteadI’ll teach it to vomitand stop wasting my bottledInk.

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Poetry

Verticality, a Preamble

The living rocks cooled,The wriggling fish washed ashore,The birds and lizards fellvictim to a more fiery roar–And so will mankind,being once supreme,be reduced to apesby the machine. Consider this a preamble to an upcoming article on verticality. A couple of cool articles: http://motherboard.vice.com/blog/rich-doyle-2 http://spacetimearchitecture.wordpress.com/2012/12/11/morphing-scale-to-imagine-habitation/

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Poetry

First Words

First words, they always do that sexy thinglike the first time I moved on you,their anesthesia makes last light(how many stitches do I need?) But then there are last words,Their breath makes next lightwhich move on the long woundand make you unforgettable.

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Poetry

Our Invention of Fitting

Every time I’ve caught you, airborne or bedridden, I’ve… Tried to invent a new way of holding you. And while hundreds there were, cradles, clasps, passions, pietas, more often than not my curls and swoons and tenderness forced brought me so close, so deafeningly in that you ended up holding me… You know how: true […]

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Poetry

Dinner At Sunset

Our elders say that youthful Hope and ever-ageless Trust, Created the blushing western sunset and pensive eastern dusk Upon discovering their precious earth was but a stiffened trail And their sky would never bear the rains nor sprinkle icy hail— That they, in fact, were leading lives too focused on some goal— Some two-dimensioned peaks […]