you construct, caught in the / / proverbial headlights. / Machinated like fruit / / in sweetly lost. / Worry not, / / wont not. /
That Living Thing
The day is stupendous – / stupid / / and pending – / fuck Fall. Fuck it all. I’ve capitulated / / beyond greatness, a statue / of
An Alphabetical Index of Significant Manic
Aaliyah, Aarushi, Abagail, Abbey, Abbi, Abbie, Abby, Abi, Abia, Abigail, Aby, Acacia, Ada, Adalia, Adalyn, Addie, Addison, Adelaide, Adele, Adelia,
a field of donkeys
i woke up in a field of donkeys / i was still in love with you / i still remembered my name / but could not piece together / how i ended up here /
I will show her I love her. / Devour the taste of fear as it rolls off of her skin. I will roll my tongue across the soft peach of her cheek to
We never make the bed, because / we respect the fact that the cats / aren't done with it. When I wake up, / I try to keep the ting and clack / of
WE’VE BEEN GONE SUCH A LONG TIME & WE FEEL
We ask where are we & then we are / In a quandary. We feel our way / Around—the room, it’s dark with surprise— / We enter & we light it.
Is morning ever made inconsequent, revoltingly / churning your body to some seeming immediacy?
© Ink Node, 2014