December 2010
15 posts
ODE TO A LARGE TUNA IN THE MARKET: Neruda,...
Here,
among the market vegetables,
this torpedo
from the ocean
depths,
a missile
that swam,
now
lying in front of me
dead.
Surrounded
by the earth’s green froth
— these lettuces,
bunches of carrots —
only you
lived through
the sea’s truth, survived
the unknown, the
unfathomable
darkness, the depths
of the sea,
the great
abyss,
le grand abime,
only...
November 2010
2 posts
On The Bro'd: 1 - Epic Beginnings →
onthebrod:
I first met Dean not long after Tryscha and I hooked up. I had just gotten over a wicked fucking hangover that I won’t bother to talk about, except that it had something to do with a six-foot-five douchebag and a beer bong. With the coming of Dean Moriarty began the part of my life you could call…
The Wondering Class (Catie Rosemurgy)
I think the stomach means we cannot love one another properly.
I think the stomach is our one true eye.
I think the stomach is an ingredient.
I think the fingers mean we are too small inside one another.
I think the fingers mean our roots became bone and we lurched away with a new agenda.
I think the eyelash means we can float to the ground like snow.
I think the eyelash means we must not...
