Member since September 9, 2014 | 350 Readings |
A Toronto-based alchemist who creates art and words from the crushed horns of rainbow unicorns and the stolen tears of lost Yetis, Carrie Cutforth is a foul-mouthed saucy minx, a salty dog, and a shifty-eyed grifter. Her kids call her ‘Mumsy’.
Weather Alerts for Spring
Sometimes ice melts // it’s easy to forget that it does // during the broad trunk of winter // / after all the fuss it made, blustering / in like…
Low Bearing Fruit
I have a vision of you / eating a bouquet of / peach blossoms // / in a bright garden, / hunched over a / wrought iron table // / your…
WORDS SHAVED BALD
And instead of grapes, he’d peel words / capacious, voluptuous and velvet, feeding them / to her by hand, plopping them / one at a time into /…
Subscribed by Carrie Cutforth
My bitches Run a man madLikeWe got a secret languageSigils writIn eyebrows done upMasterful like frames for wise eyesEyeliner done up / Stabby…
I Ain’t Know
I ain’t know sweetness / I remember / Honey hips / Salty lips / Body made delicious / With worship / And delight / With themselves / Skin like /…
March 18, 2020
The sun doesn’t appear / to know the angel of death / is lurking near, hissing quiet, / passing over (or not). / / My lush daughter is / …
The Writer. Age 43.
Can’t drop it low no mo.Booty don’t clapHormones actin a fool.My body singsSad songsWith painAndNew inability. And.....I ain’t tryin’ to hear…
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