January 2009
18 posts
a short conversation with god.
Me: Why do people get hurt?
God: It makes me laugh.
Me: Really?
God: Yep.
Me: Oh.
and this, i would bind to you.
“Miracles are to come. With you I leave a remembrance of miracles: they are by somebody who can love and who shall be continually reborn, a human being;somebody who said to those near him,when his fingers would not hold a brush ‘tie it into my hand’-“
-E. E. Cummings
Some things must simply be felt to be known.
the third week in november.
The next morning I got up first and left you sleeping in bed, entwined in the sheets and went down to the car to get a change of clothes. The air was cold and bright and the huge rock sitting in the bay looked bigger than I thought it did driving into town the night before, when the coastal fog sat at its base and swirled through the streets. When I got back to the room, you opened your eyes,...
and the lie.
“The thing was, I didn’t love him anymore. You can woo a girl with a poem, but you can’t hold on to her with a poem. Not even with a poetry movement.”
-Roberto Bolano, Savage Detectives
seals.
Before the seals on the coast, early in the day when we were still both thinking about the the night before, the sand crabs on TV, the thin motel sheets, you suddenly tugged on my arm as we drove.
“There it is,” you’d said bouncing in the seat and pointing excitedly as we came up to it. “That’s the pier with the big willow I saw last time! The one I wanted to stop...
for a girl i knew.
I move my hand over
Slopes, falls, lumps of sight,
Lashes barely able to be touched,
Lips that give way so easily
It’s a shock to feel under them
The indifferent smiles of bones.
Muffled a little, barely cloaked,
Zygoma, mixillary, tubinate.
I put my hand
On the side of your face,
You lean your head a little
Into my hand - and so,
I know you’re a dormouse
Taken up in...
miriam.
Standing under the Fremont bridge, I was looking at the concrete troll, still crushing the car when you jumped on my back. Laughing, I stumbled forward with the light weight, and standing straight again your words were in my ear and your hair in my face. Your hands covered my eyes and I only saw lines of light sneaking between long fingers.
That night at Gas Works we sat on a cold bench and...
piso del sol
In Madrid, gave Louise a pin I carried on my backpack. It was a yellow duck with a bright blue surfboard, PLNU written underneath it. I’d found it at the school’s bookstore clearance sale and bought it as a joke. I want something to remember you by, she’d said into my ear in Spanish, no quiero olvidarte. No puedo olvidarte, I quietly replied in the dim white light of the kitchen. That’d be...
virgin airlines flight 283
our fingers playfully swat each other’s away as we reach to touch the screen in front of us on the airplane back from seattle. we race to beat each other finding pairs in mahjong and laugh quietly at each other when one of us forgets easy words for wordtwist.
after the games you put your head on my shoulder, push the armrest back into the seat and settle your small weight against me. eyes...
