I lived that summer in an architect’s error, the cruel setting sun making ovens of the study upstairs on the right, and the poky mezzanine in my room. My flatmates were a straight couple who approved loans for corporations and marketed disinfectant wipes,respectively. The message arrived at ten at night, while I was sitting on the edge of my bed recovering from…
scrambled eggs i I get out of bed & don’t look in the mirror.there are birds on my tree in my headin the garden. ii i fist the glass door & flowers open.a blackbird looks at mesideways. iii her hair is like a nest of baby vipersdead before they could crawl. iv i peel with…
my nemesis lives in western springs. an aviananger management failure. most aggrievedin his undignified land waddle, like a toddlerin a marshmallow costume on the way to the buffet table of bread crumbs. I am feeding him baguette bits because they have no nutritional valueand also to escape mr flappy rage machine. also known as mr hissing noodle and…
To go around there is perhaps enough,but once again he has appropriated allthe sleep and now the wind sustainsyour insomnia like the jammed rightpedal of a haunted psychotic keyboard,moaning and wretched and frighteningas it smashes, slashes and gnashesagainst the windward end of the house. You are straining to catch its meaningand it begins to sound…
uproarious pueblo browns and Turkic Qaraqalpaq golds make your irises rampageously gorgeous: your Tongan pa’anga eyes have an unresectable kind of beauty. you are an illuming tone. you look good (my eyes and mouth water) like everything i’ve ever wanted; i sit in the tonneau with you thinking, please say you’ll stay. you’re more precious…
I saw this and thought of—let me know if you need—you must be bombarded with—there’s no pressure to—sending you so much—I’ve been thinking a lot about—actually this reminded me of you and your—you are one of the strongest people I—I am so proud of—he would be so proud of—are you—just bring—please text me when you…
I will stop reading love poetry. I will stop writing love poetry. I will stop having feelings like love and desire for poetry. I will have feelings like I belong in every home in America and if you push me out of a tall building I will kill everyone in my path. I will become hard, and cold. And sleek. Very sleek. Clean…
Now, your job is to turn the scary things sillyIt is exhausting and vaguely patronising Do you know how hard it is to chit chat at a social event while picturing smashing the bowl of your wine glass and driving the sharp stem into your throat? What have I been reading? Oh, nothing highbrow And…
#noragrets flying high # i say put it in my obituary # say thati sold my soul # but never to the devil # i killedmyself and i killed her # i killed my dreams andthey killed me # tell them i blew all the cash on #wishes spending time throwing up # throwing it…
A day of westerly gales,fallen branches, leafage, willy-williesclattering the car’s panels with grit.White wavelets to the left of the causeway.You in the passenger seat, sewing labelson two improv art quilts, the finishing touch.North of Bodalla, two trees down,closing a lane, ours the one moving;a big man in fluoro gear trotting to assess,his ute flashing yellow…