Tattoo
by Wallace Stevens
The light is like a spider.
It crawls over the water.
It crawls over the edges of the snow.
It crawls under your eyelids
And spreads its webs there--
Its two webs.
The webs of your eyes
Are fastened
To the flesh and bones of you
As to rafters of grass.
There are filaments of your eyes
On the surface of the water
And in the edges of the snow.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
depths
fillings in notebooks /
i need more fillings in my teeth
you gonna be at the vice thing on halloween?
i had really wanted to see phil elvrum at market hotel. maybe ill still figure that out. the little prince wasn't really going anywhere as a costume idea/ need to think up a replacement fast.
tryna get some xxxxxxxxx too. i feel a smile.
trying to make a list of thoughtful ways to waste my own time.......
i need more fillings in my teeth
you gonna be at the vice thing on halloween?
i had really wanted to see phil elvrum at market hotel. maybe ill still figure that out. the little prince wasn't really going anywhere as a costume idea/ need to think up a replacement fast.
tryna get some xxxxxxxxx too. i feel a smile.
trying to make a list of thoughtful ways to waste my own time.......
smells
sometimes, without warning or clear cause, i smell you. it's cheap.
like hamster shavings, sweat, your parent's house, old spice. and an ounce of something on fire.
like hamster shavings, sweat, your parent's house, old spice. and an ounce of something on fire.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
the new yorker
I never used to read the New Yorker, but I do now. I did today.
Often, I do not understand the cartoons.
Monday, October 12, 2009
JOE BRAINARD
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Friday, October 9, 2009
of recent
losing a friend
not having a ride
self-absorbed
baking things to make the air smell better
hurrying and waiting
talking to jilda
where is my line
should i stay
and wait for your letter
you don't know me anymore
hollow sirens
severe faced witch
i left our topless pumpkins out in the rain, surely they have rotted
we will just have to make new ones
i hope that black lipstick is made out of something toxic
we are one step closer to an aids vaccine but i still write about microbials
not having a ride
self-absorbed
baking things to make the air smell better
hurrying and waiting
talking to jilda
where is my line
should i stay
and wait for your letter
you don't know me anymore
hollow sirens
severe faced witch
i left our topless pumpkins out in the rain, surely they have rotted
we will just have to make new ones
i hope that black lipstick is made out of something toxic
we are one step closer to an aids vaccine but i still write about microbials
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Saturday, October 3, 2009
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