THE CAVE OF ANTI-F**R we crawled inside a sort of comfort bomb. we can be here. we can be here for hours. we can talk about trees we cannot climb. we can avoid the f-word. we can shed our timid…
the ghosts at the gorgeous saudade review kindly published this poem a little while ago.
1 track album
SOMETIMES MY BRAIN IS GOOD TO ME, AND REMEMBERS THINGS I NEED
but look at all these things i currently have open in my browser:
february house the musical #truestory(s)
MY NIGHTS ARE MORE BEAUTIFUL THAN YOUR DAYS #futurepolishdatewkanownik
women are maybe not people #surveysays
HOTT new mactaggart blog on the block #sweetpoems&poetsinawesomejewelry
need a spring soundtrack? #heartsnplugs
lucy and i started a photoblog inspired by the totally awesome cosby sweater project, documenting all of denise’s outfits, because she’s the coolest. duh.
this is one of my favourite blogs. that feels super-weird to say, “favourite blog.” but i love every now and again taking some time and catching up with bhanu. she always has these perfect nuggets that open windows and doors (and walls) i didn’t notice. then i’m in outer space and create my own gravity. i thank her for the inspiration.
Scrap by Jordan Soyka
Beginning with this dream. A bald expanse of clocks chirping,
lonely as an altar.
The river loud and sharp as whips.
Night’s little engines invent this smear of stars and tall grass,
this gorgeous dread,
where I follow a gaunt heron through the canal.
Her feathers are burning strips of magnesium
and her eyes are whispers in the next room.
Each step is like slipping an egg into boiling water.
