Posts Tagged: poem

knocking

At first I expected an answer. There was no doubt that someone would hear me knocking. The door will open any moment now because that’s how it works—knock and the door opens: on this we can all depend. After awhile, I

knocking

At first I expected an answer. There was no doubt that someone would hear me knocking. The door will open any moment now because that’s how it works—knock and the door opens: on this we can all depend. After awhile, I

the hierarchy of desire

At table 8, she introduces herself (I am your hole-filler, your anonymous food-bringer, faceless feeder), takes their order, and scoots back to the kitchen where her boss, Mulholland, is waiting by the door. His lips are pursed, but he’s not asking for a kiss. “Full hands in, full hands out,” he reminds her, and his eyes inspect her so thoroughly it feels surgical.

the hierarchy of desire

At table 8, she introduces herself (I am your hole-filler, your anonymous food-bringer, faceless feeder), takes their order, and scoots back to the kitchen where her boss, Mulholland, is waiting by the door. His lips are pursed, but he’s not asking for a kiss. “Full hands in, full hands out,” he reminds her, and his eyes inspect her so thoroughly it feels surgical.

brief vacation

                                                                Day 1 I feel funny in a bathing suit.

brief vacation

                                                                Day 1 I feel funny in a bathing suit.

spoken

  Do you like the sound of your own voice? Most don’t. I don’t. I think I sound like a little baby sucking her thumb, but I did this anyway. My man and I played around with a poem I wrote.

spoken

  Do you like the sound of your own voice? Most don’t. I don’t. I think I sound like a little baby sucking her thumb, but I did this anyway. My man and I played around with a poem I wrote.

drinking game

how to play: drink a shot every time you hear a number. 1. maybe your childhood was what they call normal or maybe not but either way 2. you turned out fine, at least you looked as fine as most young

drinking game

how to play: drink a shot every time you hear a number. 1. maybe your childhood was what they call normal or maybe not but either way 2. you turned out fine, at least you looked as fine as most young

i am the story

In the flapping of Borges’ pigeon wings, lodged in Gregor Samsa’s gizzard, in the cello played during commercials for luxury sedans and the crow clinging to the top of the telephone pole, behind a mountain’s profile, at the bottom of

i am the story

In the flapping of Borges’ pigeon wings, lodged in Gregor Samsa’s gizzard, in the cello played during commercials for luxury sedans and the crow clinging to the top of the telephone pole, behind a mountain’s profile, at the bottom of

xmas rejection song

All wholly shit. My time is wasted rhyming. Who wants to hear me complain? Come flay me now, paper cuts to silver lining then fill each hole up with spackle and paint. I’ll take my fill of dope and wine

xmas rejection song

All wholly shit. My time is wasted rhyming. Who wants to hear me complain? Come flay me now, paper cuts to silver lining then fill each hole up with spackle and paint. I’ll take my fill of dope and wine

song

This is a song this is a song without music for quiet people for those who don’t need so much stimulation who might prefer the softness of a spoon to the fork or the burn of the sun swallowed by

song

This is a song this is a song without music for quiet people for those who don’t need so much stimulation who might prefer the softness of a spoon to the fork or the burn of the sun swallowed by

house in my head

I have a house in my head. At night I clamber up to look around. I found it years ago–reaching into darkness, fumbling along walls I discovered the opening and hoisted myself up into a low-ceilinged room, close, cobwebbed, clogged

house in my head

I have a house in my head. At night I clamber up to look around. I found it years ago–reaching into darkness, fumbling along walls I discovered the opening and hoisted myself up into a low-ceilinged room, close, cobwebbed, clogged

Hole In My Heart

1 I was born with a hole in my heart. I’ve always thought that would make a good first line for a story but in reality, it wasn’t that dramatic. It was a small hole and by the time I

Hole In My Heart

1 I was born with a hole in my heart. I’ve always thought that would make a good first line for a story but in reality, it wasn’t that dramatic. It was a small hole and by the time I

bird watching

bird watching by Anna Fonté The word observation can mean both attention and devotion, as if watching is both a scientific and a spiritual practice, as if there were a fascial connection between eye, heart, and beyond. I see some

bird watching

bird watching by Anna Fonté The word observation can mean both attention and devotion, as if watching is both a scientific and a spiritual practice, as if there were a fascial connection between eye, heart, and beyond. I see some

her hand

her hand by anna fonté hot & solid in my hand, when i hold hers i grip a hunk of liquid crystal baked in sun it worms into me, swimming veins, up to my armpit where it curls inside my chest

her hand

her hand by anna fonté hot & solid in my hand, when i hold hers i grip a hunk of liquid crystal baked in sun it worms into me, swimming veins, up to my armpit where it curls inside my chest

(by Edward aka Autumn Leaf)

transportation

This morning at 2 a.m. 10/15/2012, my niece was born. I’m beside myself! Is there anything like a newborn? you drive home from the hospital with both hands on the steering wheel, accelerating carefully past a ferry loaded with strangers,

(by Edward aka Autumn Leaf)

transportation

This morning at 2 a.m. 10/15/2012, my niece was born. I’m beside myself! Is there anything like a newborn? you drive home from the hospital with both hands on the steering wheel, accelerating carefully past a ferry loaded with strangers,

(image courtesy Jordan Blanchard)

what i asked for

Every time I say the words “my” and “novel” in the same sentence, my novel hogties me to the bed and teaches me a lesson with a dull pencil: Take that, you pretentious twirp. So today, instead of trying to

(image courtesy Jordan Blanchard)

what i asked for

Every time I say the words “my” and “novel” in the same sentence, my novel hogties me to the bed and teaches me a lesson with a dull pencil: Take that, you pretentious twirp. So today, instead of trying to

if numbers had faces

Lately, I’ve been thinking about numbers. When I was a kid learning math, every number had an association, a face, and/or a personality in my mind. I had a relationship with certain numbers: 2 worried me–I could never write it

if numbers had faces

Lately, I’ve been thinking about numbers. When I was a kid learning math, every number had an association, a face, and/or a personality in my mind. I had a relationship with certain numbers: 2 worried me–I could never write it

How to Talk Politics

Slap on some new-minted cologne, slick back with a fine-toothed comb, llck the pearly whites and grab the lectern with both hands. Lean forward. Lean. Imagine you’re as big and hard as a microphone. Picture a room full of pretty

How to Talk Politics

Slap on some new-minted cologne, slick back with a fine-toothed comb, llck the pearly whites and grab the lectern with both hands. Lean forward. Lean. Imagine you’re as big and hard as a microphone. Picture a room full of pretty