condonk
I sacrifice much of myself for the sake of myself
I don't want the things I want
I'm afraid of things that hold any meaning
like a shadow in an empty room
or reflections of wind in the trees
I pressed each letter onto the paper
with a delicate turn of the handle
and watched as the bee flew again
and again into the window screen
trying ever harder to escape the place
that is all too familiar to you and I
Crouch
Secretaries are extinct
are politically incorrect
are called admins now
I feel so sorry for their glasses
kept on tiny chains close
to their tiny pockets
which are normally filled
with pens
The way it feels on my
palms is exactly how the sky feels
as the clouds pass under it
When I move toward California you say:
The air is bright today.
When you walk toward the coast I say:
I was sure there was nothing left.
White fish and Joseph Ceravolo
Marathons and brick buildings
Falling trees and drawing breath
I am and whatever is next
I have managed to find you under this mass of poems
but have you managed to find the heart of them all?
I can only think of water
rising and possibly the way
hot asphalt smells after
it rains or
the way air has become tense
this summer
I took the route home and back.
The sun was bright and forgetful
the air
was equally so.
load more entries