it feels like the time
before i ever loved
that searing singularity
that weighty waiting
the only difference
being i don't have
that crazy desire
to love another
it's like i've been
reborn w/out a heart
just lustful blood
& dusty days
of nothing much
This blog is updated irregularly and has nothing to do with the poet's output. The poet is actually disturbingly prolific. He writes about 5 poems per day. The pages are everywhere, even stacked in the bathtub.
Blog Archive
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2010
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July
(17)
- pick ax philosophy
- farther reaching than all the bridges i've burned
- until Loss moaned his name
- july beauties
- i awoke nauseated
- the mad lengths of the poet
- fools & demons
- staring at the plants
- this strange lonesome 40th summer
- wrecking balls & backbones
- hollow ghosts
- dying savior
- in a blink
- the burning man
- that searing singularity
- the greatest con
- misfit living
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July
(17)