At first, it seemed like a poet’s dream day job. A job of watching, then describing.
I’ve mooned away my marriage, / grounded it, ripped the fuselage / in two, or is the better metaphor
to say I heard the countdown go / from ten to zero and didn’t even / try to stop my wife from breaking / the gravity of disaster planet me?
On that rainy morning of that last day, I delivered some homemade ajiaco, Colombian chicken soup, to my mother, and my ex-girlfriend who was expecting a child that might be her husband’s or mine.
The Club pursues a shaky business proposition, and Jax must decide where his allegiances lie.
Allegiances are tested as a business deal heads south, and Jax must choose between the Club
Some songs sound best under the sun. Some are night-blooming. These you hear clear in dark-dark; maybe there are stars.
“I Go To Sleep (demo),” The Kinks
Play this first, especially if
Field Notes in Haiku
I hear a giant
lives in a stardew valley
I follow the signs:
a knot of sparrows
outlines the shape of a nose—
cold autumn rainfall
the field of yarrow
turned
The day we met, you told me Los Angeles was home but that you were born in Houston. It was the insurance company’s orientation day for new employees, and you were standing alone at the far table, looking around with hesitation, like a child on the first day of school.
“Bit ‘im in the jugular,” the truck driver tells me about the bear ten feet away, describing the day the bear went crazy.
She’s still searching for hers but isn’t jealous. She’s happy I finally found my med. I take it in the morning with my cereal, and she knows to leave the milk out. I can put down a whole box at once
I was a loser and I was a fifth grader and I was hoping, never prayin’, to watch somebody open a can of whoop ass on The Stevens Twins. Somebody needed to sell more ten pound bags of sweet vidalia
The morning of our second date I drew a card – now I can’t remember which one...
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[meimei’s a meatness sis slug of blood boat the body tiger the teeth selfie tongue selfie chintilt selfie lilt her lily pucker her puss pin her skin back tap her mouth flap saps herself a shelf
It's work that I want to do, and then sometimes it's just fun, and then sometimes it's a pain in the ass.
I live my life by white lies.
And poetry is white lies.
Second language is white lies too.
As well as the first.
But language is the only way
to hide love.
White, black, transparent,
or
I think the dominator model will always exist in each person, just like each person has partnership qualities. After learning more about history, it does seem to me now that humans are in a process, however inconsistent and drawn-out, of recovering from extreme sexism—which reached absurd levels when people started promoting Yahweh ~3500 years ago, culminating maybe with Christianity around the first century—over millennia.
Naoko knew all too well how difficult it was to imbibe the air of a foreign culture. She had matriculated for a year at the University of Santa Barbara to study saxophone and marked each day as a progression from one shameful moment to the next.
