Y’all motherfuckers like my poem it’s for a real life wedding in real life getting old is the coolest
I say this from experience: you won’t
remember much tomorrow but for everything
that could and did go wrong. But look
at this: when you are standing on the outside edge
of memory and think about
tonight it will be like breathing lung
of light and sound against a darkened lake,
and everyone inside of it is happy,
more or less, because of who you are
and who you will become and who
you are becoming now and even now
the pieces of our lives that crossed with yours
are yours forever and they only want
one thing: that this sustains you when you need it to.
floats down the river of your neck
to meet the rest: the clavicle
a delta where was born
the mystery of flight.
The flightless birds have gone
extinct, and when the permafrost
is dug up by the aliens
the things they find will be
delightful in their quiet way,
and capable of powering
the generation ship
required to explore your heart.
Dark smoke the locker room from all the men
the ashirt sweat the hanging eyes the ache.
Romanticize the work, the anything,
the walk. It keeps us from the edge
of the expanding universe, that twice has died
and twice returned to tell this one again,
each branching path a scenic route to what
can never change is how I feel about
the pinkless sky at night in western Illinois:
reflected from a holy mirror
that no one else was ever meant to see.
my dinner was a soft pretzel, a fist-sized ball of goat cheese, whole grain mustard, and a big ass pickle and if u aint down with that, i got two words for you: lets get ready to suck it
i am going to write a poem cycle about what i imagine it is like to be st vincent which is to say i am going to write a poem cycle about being fucking crucial every single moment of the day
her new album is just rude as hell
and someone to forgive my sins.
The thing that I forgot to know
was how twelve years would pass
in something less than amber,
no value even as a source
of ancient DNA. Consider this,
you people of the nameless earth
so long from now: to recreate
myself at thirty two will be to bring
a plague upon your kindly men,
and I will raptor every dream
neglected to be bolted down.
and wine in little glasses and I made some lamb
with sauce Robert and Brussels sprouts.
I’m feeling pretty proud of that but most of all
I want this to be real for once I want to rub
the backs of every single one of you.
its travel season again and i am going to stave off the horror of flying to orlando by drinking off brand airport whiskey and doing poems about rabbits