September 2012
1 post
August 2012
13 posts
Old before your time
When I was a younger man, lookin’ for my pot of gold
Everywhere I turned the doors were closin’
It took every ounce of faith I had to keep on keepin’ on
And still I felt like I was only losin’
I refused then like I do now and anybody tie me down
And I lost a few good friends along the way
I was raised up poor and I wanted more
And maybe I’m a little too proud...
1 tag
“A Friday night. It looked like you came straight
from fighting something that...”
– from Ander Monson, “Saw You There” (via poetryeater)
July 2012
44 posts
from Christian Bök, "Geodes"
landslides
drag you down a funnelled pit through the waist of an hourglass into an oubliette for all sleepers.
gravel showers bruise your body till you swoon, the sand a fluid solid, spilling time away into dunes on display in tiny jars.
geology writes a eulogy for all that it buries by pressing words, like moths, between pages of a mammoth encyclopedia.
2 tags
Warning
Jenny Joseph
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings...
1 tag
