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why
Even the sun-clouds this morning cannot manage such skirts.
Nor the woman in the ambulance
Whose red heart blooms through her coat so astoundingly--
A gift, a love gift
Utterly unasked for
By a sky
Palely and flamily
Igniting its carbon monoxide, by eyes
Dulled to a halt under bowlers.
O my God, what am I
That these late mouths should cry open
In a forest of frost, in a dawn of cornflowers.
- Poppies in October by Sylvia Plath
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2009
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January
(15)
- Hello.
- sweet water and shattered columns
- time for a REMIX
- Brown, stick around.
- it's not gibberish, it's advanced calculus!
- THANKS AND HAVE FUN RUNNING THE COUNTRY
- Beating and Being Beaten
- What will we do without all the Bush jokes??
- Let's talk about art
- On tresspassing pt. 2
- 1/9/09
- Oh Oakland
- My Brightest Diamond
- Oh January.
- And I could certainly use a release...
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January
(15)
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