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Literature Text
god dreamed of you last night,
and woke, terrified, under the tresses
of heaven's wings.
below, the autistic cities drink themselves
to sleep, dying slowly (taking flight).
strobe headlights carry hollow bottles,
and you are hollowed too.
Literature
consecrate
authenticity an arsenic
in morning coffee, in the smiles
pressed like ironed laundry,
because I feel like one wrong breath,
one wrong kiss between glossed lips and soft jaws
and I will be nailed to a cross
deception a shame rising like steam,
where teeth grind against each other
like clockwork gears, tick tick ticking
while the tongue kisses the roof of its cathedral
like a prayer to gods yet to be named
because her face is a mosaic window
shining the sin out of love
Literature
Matchstick
irreplaceable yet unnecessary
leave me in your retrospect
where you found me, unwanted & with a question mark over my head
or a Matchstick, maybe
I'm the fire you started &
couldn't put out
the one you doused &
the One you'll freeze without.
Literature
6-4-14
We stay at a hotel in the middle of somewhere-nowhere, Illinois, small-town-almost-no-town-at-all. If you trek a half-mile in that direction you'll find a sort of main street. Most of the shop buildings are for rent, storefronts stand empty and dark, ceilings inside collapsed, some species of scattered lesser temples, innumerable ages ago discarded.
I walk long miles by night or day down empty railroad tracks, the tracks of passing writers, painters, engineers, coal, hydrochloric acid, freight. The rail guards riding last cars wave in passing and leave me on my way. Gravel and porous fossil-like cement rocks crunch at every step.
Peop
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Comments10
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Loving this! It reminds my of the Daughter of Smoke and Bone trilogy by Laini Taylor. Have you read it?