Member since July 1, 2009 | 3,058 Readings |
is the poet laureate of abandoned boxcars.
Brooklyn by way of Piedmont
I’ve been to Asheville. Maudeville. Dollywood. / The vaudevillian neon ache, the cannibal notions of a circus / population fucked up on…
It’s like we’ve said before: earth won’t fluff / its cushions for us, why should heaven? / Idiocy makes for good talk, but / / banter alone…
“I’m alone in the…”
I’m alone in the tourniquet of shade in / the garden watching apples assail space / with the way they punctuate it. / / They’re so good at…
Currywood. Running. Noon. Bright.
Around the apricots. Damascos. That’s Spanish for. / The breeze. Hissing in my. Where did my breath. / I need it back. I’m running. The water....
Subscribed by Thomas Gibney
I HAVE NOT YET BEGUN TO DEAL // SUPER…
millennial renderings of patriotic protestations // / i. // We hold these / truths to be / selfie-evident, / that all men / are…
Oh yeah hello slim pillars, fresh faces, // revisited skin. I’ll be with you in a minute, / // just gotta torch the corpse of true love / …
It’s pretty gold out. Across the street / a couple unpacks a car. When they walk away, / she is carrying nothing. Horses and dreams / are…
Sarah Louise Garrido
Part I // The mallards we always point out / when we lived hand in hand, / when we did not. / / Those grasses that grow in marshy places / with…
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