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Literature Text
I go from morning to midnight
In seven seconds.
I thought that when
Someone broke you,
The pieces stayed inside;
That the shattered bits remained
Lodged
In the halls between your ribs
The crawlspace
Between your heart and your chest.
But I've learned that,
Often,
The fragments are expelled--
That they escape
Through cracked windows.
Brushed off
Like bittersweet dust
From our bones.
Take me with you.
In seven seconds.
I thought that when
Someone broke you,
The pieces stayed inside;
That the shattered bits remained
Lodged
In the halls between your ribs
The crawlspace
Between your heart and your chest.
But I've learned that,
Often,
The fragments are expelled--
That they escape
Through cracked windows.
Brushed off
Like bittersweet dust
From our bones.
Take me with you.
Literature
tree
It is okay to be getting your hair trimmed for the first time in eighteen months.
It is fine to let yourself inflate a sad story and then another,
like pink gum bubbles
In the direction of anyone who will listen.
You can now chew over the last year and a half of your life
from a distance, when you’re at the hairdressers,
after she notices the short patches by your sideburns with an inquisitive look.
You can hold back the tears with relative ease,
as if telling of someone else’s illness,
rolling the grief around in your mouth like a gobstopper
whist her acrylic nails gently graze the backs of your ears.
You can use an entire palm
Literature
a retraction of august's horoscope
“aquarius, you have fallen in love with the storm again,”
the august horoscope reads.
it is almost—but not quite—correct.
for the sake of astrological accuracy
it might be revised to read,
“aquarius, you have fallen
in love—” (this part
may remain)
“—aquarius, you have fallen in love
in the sticky heat of summer,
the air as damp as your skin,
heat rising from the tarmac
of this flat swamp town.”
or perhaps, “aquarius,
it will not feel like a storm.
there will be no lightning bolts,
no thunder. there will be no fire
under your skin.”
“aquarius, your love will be
Literature
hands together when i kneel
i may not be much
but swear to christ i'll level you.
cut your teeth on me
and drink devil tongue
when we kiss.
unsettle your desperate itch
and lace your ligaments;
i will swallow you
within an inch
and own it.
i'll be bearing mary
up until the twist,
then rectify my wandering eye
with touch
of lips.
locked, you exist
to please me.
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You think I'm going to chase this down with water? - Andrea Gibson
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Comments5
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I really adore this poem. There is nothing about it that i don't like, espescially the middle part is fantastic, your imagery is breathtaking and I can absolutely wholeheartedly relate to this. I think that's what makes a good poem.