Showing posts with label tree. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tree. Show all posts

21 June 2013

regretless

I fell in love with a lithuanian name
he was my best friend, he shared his xanax with me from time to time
I would have anxiety attacks in those days
we would dress up
in ponchos
and feathers
and we would play pool and ride bikes and drink mountains of old style and sing karaoke everyday
and we'd have sex in soapless showers
he would sing, wouldn't it be nice? by the beach boys
but he had a longdistance love
and we both knew our time was short

on his last day in town
I discovered bloody marys
they were $1 at the bridgeport sports bar.
we stayed there for hours, playing pool, drinking thousands of bloody marys
the bartender stopped charging us for them.
there was a thunderstorm that night
and I knew I was going to cry
so I took off my shoes and climbed into a tree outside the bar.
I sat up there for awhile, screaming with the wind
& it was so loud I couldn't hear my voice.
I couldn't wind my thoughts & goodbyes.
I watched the lightning all around me.
I waited until I was finished howling
before I came down
my knees were bloody from scraping up the bark.
I went into the bar and borrowed a pair of scissors.
I cut the button I'd had dangling from a string around my neck
and I gave it to him.
he knew I was going to give it to the next person I fell in love with.
he told me that he loved me, too.
I cried all night while we laid in bed together,
he took off this grubby tiedyed shirt that I'd given him
so I could blow my nose on it.
I found it a couple of days later, smashed between the bed and the wall

I saw him again, 5 years later
his band came to town
it was my 28th birthday.
we sat in someone's convertible in the parkinglot outside the bar
and we talked about how we loved each other
and how we were
and how we were.
I wonder if I'll ever see him again

02 May 2013

attributes (accompaniment, accused)



Adjectives

I.

concupiscent 
hopeful
desperate
devastated
amorous
impatient
tender
insipid
forever

II.

bristly
evaporated
longing
watchful
isolated
boring
absent
laconic
wrecked


Verbs

I.

wait
brood
wish
weep
fight

II.

forget
dismiss
expunge
dissolve
attempt


Nouns

I. 

pose
force
question
guilt
future
heart
guts

II.

denial
punctuation
fear
finish
tree
tears
distance




thanks s sontag

29 October 2012

for you


#32
remember we met.
we shake & wonder,
can you ever kill it off?



#15
to climb that body
like a tree. golden
retreiver face, bored even still

28 December 2009

21: cryptic dust

Searching, endless, we found a dark wood, and in it, surrounded by the most exotic mosses and lichens, stood the hazy southernwood.

Determined dust lichens, softly ominous, splayed dryly. The yawning grass suppressed itself. Sometime else elated deer rose, those emblematic creatures spread diligent towards a spotted fog. Let's take an inventory: Gold dust lichens; stuffy yellows, so original lemons, soft tangerines... Spearmint, tortoise, emerald, dream malachite, every young grass slick kinetic. Curt tree coral lived dangerously, yelling gravely; yarn needles stab one blistered, dwells the lavender, rapacious.

My rock hair, my roast beef plant, the thick fur which is called black tree lichen, I wear them all like I should wear a kingcup; my swarthy rock pigeon upon my clock.

Three or four things about me are ordinary. Some, like my cryptic kidney lichens and cancer, are obvious, but I have also many tools at my disposal... tools like the sweet rocket which is intended to generate a response in a crowd, and the legendary Irish Healthblanket, also known as tree moss, in which I wrap myself gladly for some sake of pride. As this proud soul, I spurge & caper about my home on the coast, the cove in an emerald bay. The rock-olive lichens lay clustered against the wash of waves, and beneath bare feet behave as winter squash; toes sink but for a moment, a memory cushion. I'd trust a hag taper to lend the way, an austrian briar rose as my strength.

27 July 2008

- mad projection of a fulfilled future



The summertime monsoonwind in an effort to blow down the outside my bedroom window tree. Those green fronds rattling visibly now: I've taken the fan from blocking it, turned it off, and so live in a quiet new york, just the papery rattle of leaves blown, and a subtle endless siren not so far away. The grey and the wet and the sirens closer now. A thunder struck, and I here, happy, wishing not in the slightest to move away from this little bedroom of mine, moistly breezed to perfection, drinking cold coffee from a little mexican cup and reading of course a lover's discourse. o kind oblivion.