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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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2011
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April
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- Paintings of Lucian Freud
- GUARDS
- My summer home
- Michelle Dean Kaminer
- Summer in New York
- Yum.
- SO ANNOYED
- Perrier pamplemousse rose
- Puzzle collage
- typography
- "a throw of the dice will never abolish chance"
- This is an awesome tattoo
- los grooves latinos
- Music from Saharan Cellphones
- That's my mama
- These are so cute they make me want to cry.
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April
(16)
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