Welcome!
The numbers are numbers, not dates.
04 — [ ]
[ ]
03 — we're sure
I have been
I am now
the river, swallowed in green, sticky
spine bones drip
dropping / has two
eyes you never see
visitors teach me their histories,
glass ground and ground and
chewed, blood spit gift and two
fingers slow-mapping
the palm of my hand
it's nothing and never
enough, rousing the house,
this loud drunk
hacking,
slick and living,
spinning thicksmoke dreams
a recall gone purple gone
wrong somewhere
it was better then,
we're sure, or think we're sure
02 — bad poem for a text: Yoga & drinks tonight? eyeball emoji
The world stock colors,
crayola whole.
Light so thin we split its last.
A voice, an amp, thirty feet of plain street.
I like the way you see me, better than the way I see me,
and tell you so. We discuss what it is to see,
to be, to be really.
My tomato drink is good. You agree.
I splash a little when I set it
down and you lick it off. This is all there is, all
there is to say and I'm splintered like the voice, the street,
color sprinting pixel
sweet rice and a
temporary body which carries
sticks which reaches
heart to sky which studies
blue jay and blue jay's
toy hunt, the whole bloody scene
01 — hawk
the miles open
for me
hawk
jungle
some silence and all
the world's waters
screech and a flat leaf
leading lines collapse
worlds
something in my
body wants
to break that giant
blue
i don't
the wind stings