bop
This commit is contained in:
@@ -0,0 +1,40 @@
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---
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title: "A fox drags the dusk"
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pubDate: "Oct 13 2025"
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---
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from the clouds, jaws gripped round
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the light that slots the rumpled birches'
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just-unburdened boughs
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trackless in the frowzled leaves,
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she suddens over yearning
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roots,
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scarlet ember of the summer's
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afterlife, tugging sunset
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taut
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along the eaves
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skies groan grateful
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as their skin stretches
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thin
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and their bones show through
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no one hears her straining
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breath
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before the snap
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no one sees her tumble to her
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den in the hollow
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-chested
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night
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bottomless hours on,
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pushed in the barrow of a robin's
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song,
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dawn
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overflows the dark
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yet no one knows if or when
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she'll wake again
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to save the day from day
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---
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title: "Anchorite Autumn"
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pubDate: "Oct 18 2025"
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---
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the rain-hooded monk of october
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shades a stony cell
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wafer-pale
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lips tight
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in
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waning
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votive twilight
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thumbing beads of leaves
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remembering sins of summer
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@@ -0,0 +1,19 @@
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---
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title: "Caustics"
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pubDate: "Oct 3 2025"
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---
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cracked glass wobble
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leaky veins of sun
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coral bed carousel
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fizzled ribs of sea
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sabre-fencing phantoms on
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supermarket lobsters on
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superyacht keels on
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high school pool room tile
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physics in the haunted sand
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an ancient urgent transmission
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a nebula-sized qr code
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too close to scan
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@@ -0,0 +1,10 @@
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---
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title: "Gender (noun)"
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pubDate: "Sep 24 2025"
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---
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1. a correlation cluster of consumer preferences
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2. a set of proscriptions surrounding expressions of anger
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3. synesthesia. e.g. "harps are pink, saxes are blue."
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4. any game whose players: cannot explain the rules; righteously enforce the rules; lose repeatedly but never win
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5. the right or left handedness of shirt buttons
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@@ -0,0 +1,26 @@
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---
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title: "Image18(Fixed).BMP"
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pubDate: "Sep 21 2025"
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---
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xp
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bliss
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dazzles moonless
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rooms like razor burn
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dial
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up
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colics to a quiet
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world
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alt.consciousness.near-death-exp
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re: please interpret...
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re: please interpret...
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re: please interpret...
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> what recompense for sorrow?
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only wind in the branches
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you have been
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online
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-5000000000 second(s)
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&
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@@ -0,0 +1,29 @@
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---
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title: "Lostwave Girl"
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pubDate: "Sep 10 2025"
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---
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Woken by umami-ripened sewage,
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she greets another morning like "I can't do this."
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Piss-puss mixture foams and glows golden
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Cavatappi maggots swarm and grow swollen
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Tumblrborne cognitohazard plague-rat girly
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("Reblog to turn your brain to masticated slurry")
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gets off to a turboprop voring an Accord
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and adds a shadow person to her salvinorin stimboard
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Darknet Sorceress in her Hello Kitty bed
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reanimates to summon a glass menagerie of meds
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Eyes made of dread, practice smile mildly upsetting,
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morning flossing mostly acts as black bile bloodletting
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Thesis on Deleuze decomposing on a USB
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as she dapples caramel fraps with toasted sucralose debris
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And every drive-thru order's immediate "Hello, sir!"
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tends to get her wishing for a euthanasia coaster
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She daydreams an Insta feed of last known photos:
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CEOs reported missing from Palermo to Kyoto
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Interpol too flustered to ever crack the case
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because she's just too stunning wearing black leather and lace.
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@@ -0,0 +1,18 @@
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---
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title: "MOON10.RAW"
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pubDate: "Sep 21 2025"
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---
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moon like a searchbar
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cradling a hesitating
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cursor
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flat clouds hemming the waiting
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silence of the world
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anyone can clip through concrete
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no one can clip through the skybox
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a neon sign once named the night
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PSYCHIC
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3am smothers it
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@@ -0,0 +1,16 @@
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---
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title: "My old neighborhood is not that old."
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pubDate: "Jan 9 2026"
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---
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Its body is still warm. But
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its skies have thinned to treacherous
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mountain roads. Its clouds seem just about
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to burst the seams of the well-worn winter.
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To the shapes un-peopling its misty windows,
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I hope I've grown unrecognizable.
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Every cradle eventually hollows. Abandoned
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bars lay like thickets of ribs
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in an elephant graveyard. Or, maybe,
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as mile markers for the next ones
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on their way.
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@@ -0,0 +1,28 @@
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---
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title: "November 5th, Petworth"
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pubDate: "Sep 29 2025"
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---
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Parked behind St. Paul's,
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raindrops blither on the glass
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like an ad read:
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Honey, DraftKings, BetterHelp
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6%
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ABV King Cobra
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in the cupholder
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19%
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draining phone battery
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USB-C cable
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Proudly Made in the USA
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64%
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turnout
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There's something dull about a wildfire
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About a country plunking a mining
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rig in the tub, expecting
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something beyond
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electrocution
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@@ -0,0 +1,18 @@
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---
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title: "Slushwave Girl"
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pubDate: "Sep 29 2025"
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---
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she dreams you through cerulean curves of sky
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and sighs you to her moth-soft bed
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into a blanket of fog and whispering screens
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which she vows you'll never want to leave
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ascii angels haunt the ocean overhead
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special characters circling like patient cumuli
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she shivers you to airwaves where test patterns liquefy
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station sign-offs flocking like gulls in infrared
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haven't you always counted on sprouting wings?
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or spindling delicate air on gossamer strings?
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she glitters you to the web's last forum thread
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and vows its gleaming vowels will never die
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@@ -0,0 +1,20 @@
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---
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adult: true
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title: "Sonnet for Your Werewolf Boyfriend"
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pubDate: "Jul 12 2025"
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---
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He looms above you laden as a cloud
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He beasts upon you furious as rain
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Refusal smells to him like fertile ground,
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like racing heat - and big breeds need to chase
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He bites away your cries and marks you his
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And every fevered thrust that runs you through
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is made to stain your unclaimed scent with *his*
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until his knot triumphs into you
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You didn't used to know this feral quake
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which bows your body down to pliant crawl
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You didn't used to need his teeming weight;
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you used to be afraid to need at all.
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With sheepish thanks he licks your face and sighs,
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and you feel like a giant in his eyes
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@@ -0,0 +1,22 @@
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---
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title: "Sonnet for a Silent House"
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pubDate: "Jul 5 2025"
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---
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A brittle bend of stone approached the house
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A little stand of trees concealed the world
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The space between was flushed with corpse-fed sprouts
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Above, the bony gray of fall unfurled
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Explorers trembled past the dreaming door
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and showed their paper throats to spiral stairs
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They found the thing that they'd been looking for,
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but only after snapping in its snare
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The ashy glare of dawn reveals the end
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result of lusting for the shadow of
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the world. A spine askew in jawbone bend,
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a rusty stain upon a dusty rug
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The house traverses folding maps of time
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to welcome you the hour you arrive.
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@@ -0,0 +1,20 @@
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---
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title: "Sonnet for the Abomination Currently Destroying Our Cathedral"
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pubDate: "Sep 3 2025"
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---
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An embered sky insists upon the roof
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Cathedral peaks trepan its clouded brain
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The beast below still madders her refrain,
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stampeding fraying twilight underhoof
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Entramping shards of stained glass glutter, while
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serrated winter wind affronts the saints
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We ensconced in slattern rafters scorn her gait
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which paces coarse as blood on marble tile
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and rage.
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Rage ever at the watchman's slip.
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She snuffles at our holy tome to gnaw
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and mangle in the glammer of her maw
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She bursts the guarded silence from our lips,
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our cries at last attract her gaze full vile,
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but worst of all comes her beatific smile
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@@ -0,0 +1,35 @@
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---
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title: "The Darkest Wild"
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pubDate: "Aug 29 2025"
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---
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Come the roar of the darkest wild
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Come the vilest kind of dream
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Come the glut of the storm with a flood in its throat
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Let all vicious things be freed
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Come your trembling and sweating righteous
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Come your regiment's jagged horn
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Come your litany of galloping. Try us. Retreat
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with less than no remains to mourn
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We've long since flensed our leather shells,
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the armor you rely on
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Harried arrows carom off us
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We wear the night like iron
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Come the sun to conceal the shadow -
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come to leer on the ones you felled
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Come the dusk, we'll petition our pardons from death;
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unlike you, we know him well
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We've learned to drink the ink from paper
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and feast on scarecrow bristles
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Getting drunk on mountain fog
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and moonlight from the river
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We've learned the words that twist your fear
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We watched you from our hold
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Dancing when the cave winds sang
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Thriving on each other's breath alone
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@@ -0,0 +1,39 @@
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---
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title: "Three Ideas About Maine"
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pubDate: "Feb 28 2026"
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---
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*After a line by David Berman.*
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I
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Fishermen, of course, but jaded electricians too.
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I'll even allow a few painters,
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the kind that specialize in plain air [*sic*]
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portraiture of faded doors, sickly tabbies,
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put-upon Saabs; a cellar boarded up
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from before we moved in.
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Endless pebbled shores. Deficient gray
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dreams of candystripe towers.
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II
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A salt-encrusted rocking chair stars
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in ten estate sales this year alone.
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The previous owner, the auctioneer confabulates,
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was a highly successful prosecutor
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and he sat his last twenty summers *right here*.
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He doesn't mention the coffee stains
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which aren't really coffee stains, just like this
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isn't really about Maine.
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III
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The end of the shore is the end of the world
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and the wind comes in from beyond it.
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Its break-ins grow bolder by the year.
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Some March, a stereotyped nor'easter
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will rattle the bottles of howls in the cellar,
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too loud to ignore.
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All the while we'll sit *right here*,
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sipping Pinot Gris with the throaty seagulls.
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@@ -0,0 +1,92 @@
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---
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title: "Unsent Letters I - To Lacey, From Gray"
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pubDate: "Oct 6 2025"
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---
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You can choose your family
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but you can't choose your roommates
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A girl in Inwood calls me Mommy while
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you
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halve this apartment where all four
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corners of the living
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room
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flex toward the radiator
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where the hung-up
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sleeves of our coats
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tangle in the stains
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of black iron burners
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where the ceiling comes
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pre-installed with recessed nooses
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this apartment where
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two
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microns of drywall louden
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your Discord breakups your
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mechanical bull mattress springs
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your Pepto-colored hyperpop your
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witching hour buzzing and bawling
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your pink sock striptease streams your
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WASD MOBA RGB keyclack tapdances
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You're freshly decanted from Claire's
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Shoplifted foundation spontaneous
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-ly generates from your pores
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I'm a single
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lingering
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look
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from spreading your
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purple mascara like jam
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from making you drool my name
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in trickles of candy glitter
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from sheathing my workout sweat
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in the lust of your 127 subs
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|
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You thought I was sleeping
|
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when you said
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_I can't stand_
|
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_my hot butch roommate_ and
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|
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_I can't stand_
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_the name on the landlord app_ and
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|
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_I can't stand_
|
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_another fifty years of this or_
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|
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_even another_
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_week_
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|
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Shot out of our parent's
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houses
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we've both shed miles of skin
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to get here
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(_Living in a city where nothing_
|
||||
_gets you down_)
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||||
but sometimes I picture the camera
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||||
holding on my Kubrick stare before
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||||
|
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the smash
|
||||
cut to a body bag
|
||||
|
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Goddammit
|
||||
Lacey
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|
||||
We've all gotta do the dishes
|
||||
sometime
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@@ -0,0 +1,112 @@
|
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---
|
||||
title: "Unsent Letters II - To Gray, From Lacey"
|
||||
pubDate: "Oct 7 2025"
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
you grind your teeth
|
||||
so loud
|
||||
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||||
i hear your enamel
|
||||
safeword through the wall
|
||||
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||||
every
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||||
night
|
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|
||||
you launch from the
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||||
world like a hypersonic
|
||||
|
||||
missile to crumple
|
||||
on our bombed-out couch
|
||||
|
||||
you glower at a phone that
|
||||
glowers back at you
|
||||
|
||||
for three straight
|
||||
hours and then you
|
||||
|
||||
cook more
|
||||
pasta
|
||||
|
||||
than i could eat in a week
|
||||
and then you
|
||||
|
||||
think my music
|
||||
drowns you out
|
||||
|
||||
saying
|
||||
_at least i_
|
||||
|
||||
_use social media to
|
||||
stay informed_
|
||||
|
||||
saying
|
||||
_i like stupid girls_
|
||||
|
||||
_but-_
|
||||
saying
|
||||
|
||||
_i will be okay_
|
||||
_if i can survive_
|
||||
|
||||
_another year_
|
||||
_probably_
|
||||
|
||||
some smiling
|
||||
yellow xanny bars would reset
|
||||
|
||||
your jaw
|
||||
we're all in this
|
||||
|
||||
shit but you don't have to breathe
|
||||
it in
|
||||
|
||||
you don't have to splash
|
||||
when you swim
|
||||
|
||||
when you're not working you're working
|
||||
out when you're not working
|
||||
|
||||
out you're working out
|
||||
your stress on some girl
|
||||
|
||||
you think is beneath you
|
||||
girls you can leave
|
||||
|
||||
covered
|
||||
in maps
|
||||
|
||||
of continents
|
||||
we'll never see
|
||||
|
||||
you think i don't do
|
||||
_real work_
|
||||
|
||||
you call
|
||||
me _precarious_
|
||||
|
||||
like we aren't
|
||||
all
|
||||
|
||||
one more election
|
||||
one more crash
|
||||
|
||||
one more east coast superstorm
|
||||
away
|
||||
|
||||
like we're headed for retirement
|
||||
homes
|
||||
|
||||
for deathbeds instead
|
||||
of tarps on the ground
|
||||
|
||||
by the way
|
||||
if you want me
|
||||
|
||||
if you want to do
|
||||
_real work_ with me
|
||||
|
||||
say more than
|
||||
three words to me
|
||||
|
||||
do your own
|
||||
goddamn dishes gray
|
||||
@@ -0,0 +1,16 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: "field_thing_9.jpg"
|
||||
pubDate: "Sep 21 2025"
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
jpeg eddies blend
|
||||
dessicant tawny husks
|
||||
&
|
||||
october black
|
||||
|
||||
phone flash flattens
|
||||
space
|
||||
gapless rows & sky
|
||||
|
||||
breathless us & teeth
|
||||
guttering in stalks
|
||||
Reference in New Issue
Block a user