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Literature Text
Thought bubbles are my specialty,
and smiling halfway
was never my
strong point.
Someone should make up
a word
for ruffling pages.
A three hundred and
sixty degree turn on
the intoxication of
paragraphs;
and a bookmark for every
paper cut.
Realism always did tango
with the frills of fantasy.
How could you really tell
which highway you're
going?
For every midnight ^
lunch break | up
& balancing act, |
all four corners y
are a
w
s
i
th
Don't be too surprised when
the pen starts writing you-
its been that way all along.
Literature
in the box
is a brain, removed from shell
disconnected
from signal wires. still viable (?)
maybe.
blue teeth and instant grams
and gallons of conceit;
our granular portrait no longer flatters
unless dull spots and imperfections are rendered
out in the wash--
we mask and filter, ask and answer,
bask in banter
understanding no one ever even thinks
to change the thought they've already had.
old news, rotten
if revisited. inquisitive
minds have nothing better to do
but second guess assumptions,
better than first-blush conundrums
that don't fit the formula we've written
for how the world works;
it's absurd to think
this is where our
Literature
cycle.
(birth.)
i walk home, crisp shoelaces, bloodied nose
middle of autumn, frothing at the mouth
kids took summer skin too far, brought on apocalypse
i tell myself it will be over soon, wintertime freckles
will be here
incensed
(childhood.)
stove milk and delicate murmurs
the technicolor alphabet teaches itself
purple bowls with animal faces
hospital bracelets around tiny wrists
won’t come loose
mama
(adolescence.)
the clouds are gasoline, wisps of gin, addicted
there is vomit on the floor, new candy sores
sky is burning, orange with hungry flame, vying
i don’t know who to talk to, crying
let me go
alive
(adulthood.)
doctor
Literature
Deal
You keep calm, I fix this.
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