poetry
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Reminder
I’ve woken up long ago. The plane scurries silently overhead, is full of people, of consequence. It is gone in 3 seconds. Passed through the window shade into nowhere. In France and Germany purple contains more red and less blue. A cat of ash I watch intently. As he, too, in silence, trots into the backyard.…
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Wikipedia Poem, No. 388
perfect new evening not cracked open in the maté and why? probably it backs into this poem is his catch his poem is safe from couples swallowing will not crack open on a pier at noon in the maté grass and prepared to toss it back in maine i worry that perhaps the sitcom couples…
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‘How is the sky like a grater, Jimmy?’
For James Schuyler How is the sky like a grater, Jimmy? What is sent up for shredding? Touches blue-bore and spark-moon, Cloud or torch in a rush against— No, not again, this Is how I am like a grater. So, what comes down lesser? Smaller, not sky. The sky Is neither catalog, Nor inventory, Litany;…
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Mirror Neurons Over America
The dog in bed Lays longwise Across the duvet Looks me in the eye Innocently, like the two-year-old Syrian girl without a passport. Alarm clock Radio talking too loud in the other room. The dog in bed Has ticked away from me Could be coffee breath Or selfishness, It being late morning now. Nearly twelve hours have…
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Untitled Document
i have a clicking diary too where the envelope is my container open the envelope i see the shape the keyboard of my perfect gift i am the gift dangerous objects
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Documento senza titolo
ho un diario ticchettio anche io dov’è la busta è la mia scatola apri la busta vedo la tastiera la forma da ho il regalo perfetto io sono il regalo oggetti pericolosi
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“Primrose” by Patrick Kavanagh
Upon a bank I sat, a child made seer Of one small primrose flowering in my mind. Better than wealth it is, said I, to find One small page of Truth’s manuscript made clear. I looked at Christ transfigured without fear— The light was very beautiful and kind, And where the Holy Ghost in…
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Wikipedia Poem, No. 354
fanfuckingtastic in lo and hop infronta the tv my wifes laptop infronta me me and hop me infronta the tv and me they only vaguely know each other like dye let’s call him stan 32 he grew up in the same town as she but i think to meet up stan this weekend tomorrow night…
wikipoem.org 