Member since October 8, 2009 | 0 Readings |
Subscribed by Robert Chapman
We’re all meant to go like this, in a tapestried room, / the chandelier tinkling like an insistent fork against / its oyster. We pry at the…
City where no one is from, city / that billows like the tumescent / moon, city that closes down / when the girl arrives with her bags / and…
When I came to, in that year / of bamboo, then carbon, then / filament, I learned to make / / my own light. At night, my breasts were…
Good. You, consummate / professional – cold-stripped / / field, requisite white dress. / The finished editorial / / will be titled…
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