we find the prized water. Though its song, etched in rock,
Tag Archives: song
I lift the pen but why my eyes slide down this poison face
but the sound of a bird I can’t
the glow of the sun
sinking what
else can I say
I waited too long and they’re already cleaning up so I grab some trash and throw it away they tell me to keep moving
when I slept in the forest those long years between research grants
salad days between immunity and editing
people always said I gave up too easily and mostly through song for some reason but that’s really none of my business you see I’m only paid to write these instruction manuals
leafing at monster cello sorry
it’s these new plant-based teeth
and the weight of this uniform from lack of sasquatch in the spring
did you see it that time like a flash of silver at the corner of your eye but never mind it was nice to see you again and we really should get together and no that’s OK I have utensils at home
splinter
in my nose old bookscent a torn bag of evening song longs for cool my life somehow still here
the sudden song. A beauty that—but the road in need of repair
day one. The towers toppled, but the sweet sparrow’s song
splinter
you saw in the last chapter the song of this species fetched a remarkably high price on the black margins now the mistake returns to take your teeth
splinter
of course we hope it remains flexible though there may come that sunny cool day when the light breeze tousles the heavy heads of new daffodils and the dark hungry fish hooks and songs of the condemned will
the world a blossom
I make up a song
for my dog
and softly breaks on the second sparrow’s song
my mouth at right angles to loneliness a little song