why
are
you
the poet
you
are
the poet
consequence
of shit
in love with the marauder
heracles slept in his crate
hera summoned snakes
the snakes moved without reason
heracles strangled the snakes
one by one by one
blessed her fact
that no one believed her
and darkness fell
this little temple snake
little lick her agamemnon fell in love
with the prophecy
clytemnestra weighed herself
and blessed her fact with a gift
foreseeing the gates of troy
during the prophecy clytemnestra
denied the desert island
foreseeing birds
gift of foresight
gift of prophecy
clytemnestra as birds
abandoned the gift
the sun went down
and granted her a fact
no one trusted her with the fact
a gift of birds abandoned over denial
the sun goes down and darkness falls
this little temple snake licks her
fact that no one believes
the fact believed her ears
the sun went down
and granted her darkness
and fell this little temple snake
eaten by birds abandoned on her fact
the gift of clytemnestra abandoned
the sun foreseeing destruction
darkness fell this obligation
foreseeing the gift of foreseeing
the poet eaten by birds abandoned destruction
continued into that
which no one believed her
agamemnon fell backwards into the temple
and darkness fell with him hesitates
this little predictive temple
licks fact the gift weighed heavily
on her darkness fell in love with the poet
darkness fell in love with the poet eaten by birds
to be eaten by birds abandoned by the gift
her curse was astonishing beautiful and dark
this little temple this little temple licked
the desert island poet eaten by facts
abandoned abandoned on god’s advances
he placed an astonishingly beautiful curse
the future in her little temple lick lick and lick
into that destruction of fact into darkness
the beauty that no one believed
her astonishingly licked agamemnon gone
Safely
infested
through next week.
Dead, I could not
be allowed to move
when my rabbit ran away
it is usually a red dress that day.
When my leg went west.
The dead I could not say—
owned what a belief.
I could not say—so who
owns this chief relief. I could be.
I could be locked away but when they whisper
in a vest it’s usually addressed to the right, first place.
When my leg went west I could not say—
whoever owns it is usually underdressed.
Move when my rabbit runs away: It is
unusually in first place. When they are
so usable assume one of their lips looks away.
Source: Ruefle, Mary. “When Adults Talk”. Selected Poems. Seattle: Wave Books, 2011. Print.
Tomorrow is my birthday. If anyone is in the meatpacking district and wants to eat hella pizza and drink reasonably priced cocktails HMU. Please share this and let everyone know what a terrible poet I am. You can be anything you want.
it is 1887 at a banquet observe the french
artist effects of fine arts think of antwerp now
court ensure committee assault.exe
swing with woman accusing then twenty-four hours
after remarkable public hearing
woman accuses committee kavanaugh
says friday morning he would vote on the supreme court
ensure with woman accuses republic hearing
committee passage bring committee say friday morning
he would vote on the supreme court
ensure president’s nominee to judiciary committee
passage and brink of sexual assault
he would vote to confirm judiciary committee
say friday morning with a woman
accuse committee say friday morning
woman accuses
orientalist painting on condemned programs
clavicles painted by the parisian public
virile collectors attempt themes
paint poisons on prisoners’ swamp
judiciary committee gather republicans
line up in support of judge kavanaugh
compel tearful and compel tearful and compel tearful
accusation as republicans line up support arizona
announce his decision just moments from judiciary committee
gather accusation other to hold the first
arizona friday announces his decision
just moments from judge kavanaugh
he denies twenty-four senators
condamnés à mort
royal gallery of critics and fathers
The same and not quite the same, I walked through oak forests
Amazed that my Muse, Mnemosyne,
Has in no way diminished my amazement.
A magpie was screeching and I said: Magpiety?
What is magpiety? I shall never achieve
A magpie heart, a hairy nostril over the beak, a flight
That always renews just when coming down,
And so I shall never comprehend magpiety.
If however magpiety does not exist
My nature does not exist either.
Who would have guessed that, centuries later,
I would invent the question of universals?
Montgeron, 1958
Source: Miłosz, Czesław. New and Collected Poems, 1931-2001. New York, N.Y: Ecco, 2003. Print.
mount ancient
hard sounds
from the coast
of his way
to be had
life ended up
scrounged up
scrounged up
scrounged up
scrounged up
scrounged up
scrounged up
scrounged up
scrounged up
scrounged up
scrounged up
scrounged up
scrounged up
scrounged up
scrounged up
scrounged up
scrounged up
scrounged u
joined indefinite floodplain
indefinite homeowner
indefinite homeless person
indefinite political junky
indefinite colonial invader
indefinite disabled adulterer
full-stop
he claims
indefinite migrant
indefinite straight
indefinite pirate
indefinite poet
indefinite fugitive
indefinite soldier-bound
indefinite fugitive
indefinite strategist
indefinite mass murderer
indefinite sailor
indefinite traumatic past
indefinite war hero-bound
indefinite mass
joined father
joined brain
indefinite traumatic past
indefinite punk lash
joined father thief
joined brain indefinite fugitive
any old adulterer
full-stop he claims indefinite war hero
joined father thief military leader
joined brain indefinite fugitive claim
indefinite old quitclaim
all that mighty oneself
one sees stretch online
glassed by the trees
its easy eye
and wine glasses
lost in branches
by the pain that’s
remembered
her sea bottom
home for suede
flash stupid
save oneself
from love you
see selfless be
come classless
seawine in a park
ing lot terrible
things unfriendly
things how much love
is parking one
sees measure sees
love love
is what one sees
oneself flash io
then flash
something else
no longer seen
“And look! Memnon has been stolen away and is at the edge of the painting.” Philostratus the Elder
i know what precisely to say do i say a few years back what's right and how much of love is high cheek bones and how many high cheek bones gatherd here how low the creek groans bones and how much left i felt the thin cracks in what's right and how does algae grow so deeply phonetic down my chest beauty when ever where ever i'm not looking at my phone am i begging myself to stay say a few years back what precisely do i mean or am i asking me or am i asking me or am i asking my phone when ever i'm right behind myself that's how love is high cheek bones and glass skin and how much of love is deeply photosynthetic am i asking my phone which i am not looking at first that master's eyes surrounded by bones and how much of love is a long stemmed wine glass there are my high cheek bones love and how much of love is thin cracks in that master's degree eyes surrounded by all the pain out of hand i know what precisely do i mean or am i muttering again either way i see myself of course in my master's eyes surrounded by all the rosette bone algae growing so deeply phonetic then i say a few years worth of what's right and yet look first that's how much is felt see the seamouth's signifier and how much of love is glass thin skin cracks in the long stemmed wine glass full of saltspit there are high cheek bones and then there are high cheek bones in a low cut white v-neck crawling with algae so deeply photosynthetic am i asking myself or am i asking me say a few years go by what precisely do i say then after a few thin years