#AmericanWriters
Blue, but you are Rose, too, and buttermilk, but with blood dots showing through. A little salty your white nape boy-wide. Glinting hairs
What does love look like? We know the shape of death. Death is a clo… immense and awesome. At first a li… is lifted from the eye of light: there is a clap of sound, a white…
The flag is folded lengthwise, and lengthwise again, folding toward the open edge, so that the union of stars on the… field remains outward in full view…
A mouth. Can blow or breathe, be a funnel, or Hello. A grass blade or a cut. A question seated. And a proud bird’s neck.
Little lion face I stopped to pick among the mass of thick succulent blooms, the twice streaked flanges of your silk
Body my house my horse my hound what will I do when you are fallen Where will I sleep
Monday The world is a ball of water. See, it is round-sided. I move across its topside, upon the world, not in it.
Stop bleeding said the kn… I would if I could said… Stop bleeding you make me… I’m sorry said the cut. Stop or I will sink in f…
In the pond in the park all things are doubled: Long buildings hang and wriggle gently. Chimneys are bent legs bouncing
I like being in your apartment, an… As in the woods I wouldn’t want t… or change the play of sun and shad… The yellow kitchen stool belongs r… against white plaster. I haven’t u…
I show her how to put her arms aro… but she’s much too small. What’s worse, she doesn’t understa… And although she lies beside me, stick…
The binocular owl, fastened to a limb like a lantern all night long, sees where all
Women Or they should be should be pedestals little horses moving those wooden pedestals sweet
A smudge for the horizon that, on a clear day, shows the hard edge of hills and buildings on the other coast. Anchored boats all head one way:
We move by means of our mud bumps. We bubble as do the dead but more… The products of excruciating purge… we are squeezed out thin hard and… If we exude a stench it is petrifi…