Hey guys, since last night Jeff, Erin, and I had our monthly blog night, I was not able to post some poetry. Today, I'll post six then, just to make up the difference. Also, Indiana Jones and the Crystal Labeauf was a strange film. Anyway, poetry.
untitled 4370
I spelled my name wrong
in the white
snow
of your front lawn
when you were a girl
and
the cinnamon
in
your hair was of sweetest
pink
cumulous
and the orange sky
crashed atop
us
in pine cone
untitled 4369
my best friends have
icicles
in their
feet
when the winter
settles
around
the coast like
a fur coat
she babbles
and brook.
we catch ourselves this
year
as if for the first time
trying
to believe
in
people
and
things
untitled 4368
bundles of magazine
blustery
sidewalk café
dance
she suggests that
to tumble
for the summer
is
to come over to the apartment
in May
and fix the busted
sink
with a quarter wrench
oh
my teeth
she giggles
but
does not think of mirrors or
car fenders
untitled 4367
not in gray
fields
of loose witches
hair
oh my
love
one billion rocks
tumble away
into
the sea
but you have never noticed
untitled 4349
all
girls who taunt
you
with light switches
in the classroom
beyond the yellow
chalk
and
the teacher
screams
you stole her lunch
and
fed it to the birds
untitled 4348
Christopher Savage
a disco
blaze
set
fire to
the dance
hall
you wicked
girl
all lipstick
but
no
mascara
you.
you care
about the sky
night
complaining
the lack of conservative
and
sound
and
vacant bus
trawling
on
into the never
No comments:
Post a Comment