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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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August
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- Oh bwog
- Seriously
- I don't often say this
- a good thing
- no justice no peace?
- il me dit je suis poète
- All aboard for Brooooklyn
- Lartique, 1966
- I may have just died and gone to heaven
- Can you spell s-e-l-l-o-u-t
- Quotes from the great EYK re: the working life
- breuckelen for lyfe
- Things my job has taught me:
- Mark Bradford
- No words.
- Riot mom
- A buncha new retro tunes
- Getting in deeper
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August
(18)
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