the mylar unicorn balloon juts out of my moodlighting lamp
& won’t lose air sealed lips but the horn’s starting to sag
it’s not sad it’s entropy how slowly t...
Trade a coffee maker for a pack of cigarettes,
and throw rotten oranges out the apartment window at people on the street,
supposed to storm on Friday,
...
August, and the Snow has Just Melted is like a collection of postcards transcribed from a melancholy language. It’s mixed with English, Norwegian and some heavy...
Do you want to learn to breathe fire tomorrow?
Can I come home with you, quiet like fog, buy your groceries and mop your kitchen floor, beat the rug...
Sew me up with the silk of spiders
before I am eaten alive.
If I am exposed and the birds find me
they will poke and prod until I come undone.
But if I ...
Google News comes a knocking, one more
daily dissemination of sensation to my display:
Ding dong, Carrie the princess is dead, the Habs
beat Pittsburgh and s...
it’s not like you and i ever really went together, we sort of just orbited
around one another. it’s kind of like you were Saturn, and i was one of your many mo...
Notice how they sit on a park bench, the sun
hanging overhead, photobombing in the backdrop.
It used to be that we used other people to heal ourselves from pa...
One morning i awoke
& folded myself into 16 pieces
Tore off strips for passerby
Till i lived everywhere
But home
When i think about growth
i hear a th...
Symmetry and parallelism are identifiable everywhere. Remember after the Y massacre, before the summer/spring/winter bombing of month year X? The same year, co...
we haven’t even had that much sex to indie music
someone should take away our tote bags and fancy pens
isn’t that how it’s supposed to go?
you buy the things...
Shy Watson’s candid chapbook leaves something to be desired-something specific. It narrates a suffocating crush. A hopeless attraction, detrimental to a young p...
and live in a mansion whose walls crawl with ivy. A trench coat on my skeleton.
I want to be dead in a necklace of gold teeth and start brush-fires on mounta...
I am kicking the sticks out of the gravel path
And tripping in my high heeled boots
You are trying to take my hand
And I am letting you
Our thoughts are...
Boris is alone. He finds company with his dark house, his chair, and the sea. But he can’t tell us if anyone else inhabits the world. He isn’t able to let us ...
You were not convinced by my mood.
Happy as a clam, I was just taking it all in,
the dank breeze and blaze off Hampton Beach, a little overwhelmed
by the n...
One sizable house
A loving couple
A goofy Great Dane
Bags of Doritos
Bags of Nacho Chips
Cook up beef and bean
Bags of shredded cheese
Few jalapenos
Com...