Comments Posted By Robyn

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you’re a chiasmus waiting to happen, lovely lady buried in her books, a place where finesse of language cannot help you, no, there is no term to describe what is about to happen next–you, pressing the ink out of each page, so you can wear it like eyeliner, all these words so close to your eyes must be making you blind

» Posted By robyn On 05.05.2011 @ 9:07 pm


confusing luck and the lord, it was an intrinsic creation, creativity;

all the noise
their unbearable pounding, weary feet against tall grass, whole bodies touching the earth when they slept, like practice for death, so unlike us, so unlike us, us who prefer the cocoons and the catacombs and anything but the dirt, as though we know, in blinding awareness, that it’s mixed with the dust of our ancestors, energy we cannot erase, energy we cannot sleep on;
all the noise
all their noise, all that they made and all that they heard and all that they knew to respond to
something we will never know.

» Posted By robyn On 05.03.2011 @ 6:07 pm


your fluorescent spirit, I’ve known no greater pain than looking in a light too bright; and you receded into the distance by your own will, a suicidal sunset, I knew you too briefly, the comfort in tragedies.

» Posted By robyn On 05.01.2011 @ 3:30 pm


like some royal loneliness, a chorus of birdsong;

» Posted By robyn On 04.30.2011 @ 10:06 am


i wish i loved you
(maybe i know your story too well)

» Posted By robyn On 04.27.2011 @ 1:02 pm

she compared it to pizza.
“you know, when you’re at a party, and there’s maybe four or five pizzas, so you really go at it, you don’t stop just to be polite, you stop because you’re just so full that you know you can’t have another piece–it will only make you sick?”
she always talked with too much detail.
“i just wish that we could tell the world, i’m done, i’m out, and the world would take care of it. i’d get stricken with cancer the next day, maybe a car would hit me, maybe i’d die in my bed from godknowswhat. but if the world could just listen like that, you know? cause it feels like it’s time, but…”
her words trailed behind me even as i left the room.

» Posted By robyn On 04.26.2011 @ 8:30 pm

(but first, hansel had collected white pebbles in the night. they must have looked like tiny drops of moonlight, he must have felt so alone with gretel in bed, somewhere in the dark behind him, somewhere in the untraceable dark and ignorant in her sleep)

like hansel dropping bread crombs, gretel trailing behind him, standing tall in her young sadness, everywhere you went you left pieces of yourself–here, in my vase, your dream of africa–under my pillow, antartica, an arabic language book on my kitchen table, you wanted to collect the world.

and in the mornings, waking up to a partial memory, I worry for you; you who scattered yourself everywhere, so recklessly, how can there be any of you left? (did you portion any white pebbles for yourself?)

» Posted By robyn On 04.26.2011 @ 6:27 pm

she was a trailer.
everything she lived for–
all that she did, stepping on the bus, everything that she said, goodmorning to the driver, everything that she did, taking a seat behind the old man–
everything that she did was unreal, as though she were hollow, as though she wanted to be hollow, everything she did
only a trailer for something else,
the promise of something biggerbetterlouderheavier

» Posted By robyn On 04.26.2011 @ 1:25 pm

and in all these faces, love.

» Posted By robyn On 04.26.2011 @ 1:22 pm


it could’ve been like the intersection of two lovers; meeting at the hipbones for the first time, departing, meeting, skin against skin like collisions of nebulae, intertangled.
it could’ve been–all that there could have been—
the saddest catch and release.

» Posted By robyn On 04.25.2011 @ 8:53 pm


as though it were a puzzle to be solved, we spoke our names over and over and overandover until they had lost all meaning, any personal power over us, until the syllables crashed upon one another (debris on the shoreline) and we took the remnants (my name mixing with yours)

and began to construct out of the fragmented letters (frayed from the abuse of overuse) a lotus.

» Posted By robyn On 04.24.2011 @ 11:47 am


as if we were birds (canaries, or magpies) as if we had our young hands again (veins hidden under skin, crayon wax hidden under nails) as if we could see the colors that bees do, as if we could wish and know it would come true (as if we wrote prayers like poems) as if we were birds–

we climbed that iron fence.

» Posted By robyn On 04.23.2011 @ 6:00 pm


we drank cheap wine in a styrofoam cup, that night, smiled until we were drunk and then we laughed–
and we laughed about syrofoam, how it doesn’t decay, we played a spitting contest with our science, how many facts we can name in a minute, in this slap-happy state

took a lighter to our cups.

» Posted By robyn On 04.22.2011 @ 1:33 pm


like a moth towards the light, a drunk sea-captain riding without a crew; something beautiful in the foreign danger, something too lovely to be ignored, i could’ve known this would hurt me but that could not have stopped me. you gifted me new words like roses, bouquets at a time, some to put in the vase and some to plant in the garden;
(there was extraño and mítico and fuegos artificiales en la bahía, i wish i could forget, i wish you had given me rings i could leave in a drawer, these are words too heavy to sink when you throw them into the tide and they are too light to burn in the fireplace)

you left me for the sun.

» Posted By robyn On 04.21.2011 @ 8:58 pm

and behind you, a trail of light, synthetic glowing petals fallen from the hem of your dress, like something foreign.

» Posted By robyn On 04.21.2011 @ 6:49 pm

from somewhere, a foreign memory–

» Posted By robyn On 04.21.2011 @ 11:33 am


I’ll make you think you’re mine. You’ll be my slave, my gadget, my trophy–I can make you think like that. Little lover from an abusive father, you’re such a cliche, you’re a nightmare in that faded-pink dress, even color is desperate to get away from you, look at that. And they say that places can keep emotional charges, that’s why you see ghosts, at the places of murders or car accidents–when they died, an explosion of their energy, at just that moment, too heavy for the wind to blow away, decaying at the slowest rate, and when you walk into it–you’re bathed in it, no wonder you feel like shit, that apprehension, that tension, that nervous heartbeat.
And that’s just what you are, you’re that terrible place, you’re not a body, you’re geography, a deposit of bad energy, and I’ll tear out all your roads, all the devils’ bones buried in the crossroads, and I’ll make you mine, girl, we’ll change all that

» Posted By robyn On 04.20.2011 @ 4:35 pm


oh, your cogs are showing again
and this light from inside of you, it’s keeping me up at night
i thought
i don’t know, it’s silly, i guess
i just thought
you know, maybe we’d be better, once you were this way
we should have left ray bradbury’s mind inside of his own pages,
just where he put himself,
but really
it’s your fault, dear
for ever suggesting i read him
always trying to change me, aren’t you?

» Posted By robyn On 04.19.2011 @ 9:10 pm


and when i tapped on your bones, an acoustic sound;
and when i washed you (in tap water, in the sink) turned you over in my hands again, (i tried not to let you see me cringe)
but i’m afraid i washed away a flower blooming from your shoulder

» Posted By robyn On 04.18.2011 @ 4:36 pm


that scent, that sour familiarity of it; like a rush of blood to the head, the memories; (i once heard that every time you recalled a certain memory, in some unknowable way, it changed; due to the usage of the synapses–it makes me afraid to think what my grandmother’s hands must have really looked like, skin on bone, whiskey in the veins)
maybe if i had expected to smell that stench on you
maybe the way my head works, maybe it would’ve been different
but that was the moment i knew we could not turn back from, a regret in bloom

» Posted By robyn On 04.17.2011 @ 8:36 pm

there’s urban in her hair and bourbon riding down her legs, she lost one earring twenty words ago and the other is slipping out now, tiny falling stars—

» Posted By robyn On 04.17.2011 @ 5:01 pm

painted your walls with whiskey, glass on the ground, you had to wear your shoes indoors from then on. and you painted yourself, how happy you were, to have filled the tub with it, sat in it with all your clothes on and hummed a favorite a song. you were always such a mess but there was no other way you could’ve lived, i know.

it’s okay.

» Posted By robyn On 04.17.2011 @ 4:16 pm

oh, yeah
just fine drinking by myself
i’m just fine right now and i’ll stay just fine
you’re worried over nothing
quit it
best i’ve felt all week, actually
god i’m happy

» Posted By robyn On 04.17.2011 @ 4:12 pm


not gonna write to this word today
really don’t like the place it’s putting me in my head

» Posted By robyn On 04.16.2011 @ 1:06 pm


fast and faster, when we ran out of gasoline we didn’t even bother pushing the ford onto the shoulder of the freeway (when you shudder, sounds like the rattling of engines.) we just tore off the plates, took the bikes out of the back, and kept on going. if i’d known we were going to abandon the car that day (if i’d ever known, ever planned on it, if we ever talked) i’d have ripped the radio out beforehand, a keepsake. (and when you blink, your eyes click like the shutter of a camera, the thick lenses of your eyes combative against protection)

left the car in the middle of the road, and
i don’t know you anymore.

» Posted By robyn On 04.15.2011 @ 4:51 pm

loved watching you drink yourself into waste; didn’t mean it to be so intentionally cruel.

» Posted By robyn On 04.15.2011 @ 11:28 am


bring it down and make it loud. let’s bring it all down tonight, we’re gonna break it down, we’re gonna hit up the town, grandpa always said nothing is more annoying than quiet chaos whenever we tried to tame him. let’s go out and preach to the homeless how they ought to be spicing up their signs, let’s be crude, i want to play rough and play it rough, I’ve got a bad lack of risk like a lack of iron in my blood, this is the worst kind of anemia, it’s playing out in my head, all this calm has made me hysterical, i’m ready for some flying fists and careless words, let’s get sick and blow it

» Posted By robyn On 04.14.2011 @ 3:40 pm

hello, hello, hello, an echo inside of me, so loud, hello, hello. maybe you are speaking; is this my voice or yours? maybe it is ours, maybe i am somewhere else, collective consciousness, bullshit. can you hear me, are you okay, are you okay, can you hear me? from somewhere far away, pounding in my ears, i’d wish you’d quiet down, i’d tell you yes if it would get you to shut up. no, don’t go, don’t leave me, i love you. don’t involve love in this, you can’t hear me but i can’t stop hearing you, a one-way mirror, glass on the ground, hair tangled in the shards.

» Posted By robyn On 04.14.2011 @ 3:06 pm

in that moment, jumping from your fourth floor apartment, knowing that if i held your hand it would hurt how we fell–knowing that we contained our lives, tiny capsules like a pill, knowing that if we broke the skin, it would all spill out–i could only regret never having broken a fish oil pill to appreciate the beauty

of the simple destruction of things

» Posted By robyn On 04.14.2011 @ 1:06 pm


i didn’t know the punishment would be so severe. i didn’t know you could have an infestation of words like rodents, i didn’t know they were worth hoarding, i didn’t know you would. your house burned like a library.

» Posted By robyn On 04.13.2011 @ 12:43 pm

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