Curled on a couch, wrapped in seaweed and crystalline pastimes, the alkali like so many horses dead in the dry reservoir, I turned the weather away...
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i decayed to a voice a vowel a stressed syllable. trapped in the glass of my childhood jar. i used to stab stars in the top. insects crawled on the...
man in the land of Uz you don’t know the first thing about a crow where to trace its roots when to call the doctor in the summer what words...
And the men say put her over
the fire just to see, and the women
say bake her a cake in a thimble,
just to see
has a story about human greed and a flood. The Queen
licks the blood from her blade.
We burn his photo under the tree. My friend, I trust her witchcraft.
No wonder songs are so full of denial. And what
did you do about that?
I climbed the beanstalk, up and up, to the realm
Of pendulous curtains.
You resemble an angel created in a landfill.
In Pompeii we didn’t distinguish rats