Monday, June 29, 2009

Because the world consists largely of fragments...

...and because it's often the individual parts we love as much as the whole (the individual line in the poem, the lines in the lover's face), here are some fragments of poems of mine. It takes fistfuls of guts to post one's poems to a public audience. I'm not ready for that. I need to shower first. And swallow hard. And get ahold of some bourbon. 

+Nopeology—the study of things that probably won’t happen
  Maybology—the study of things that may or may not happen

+The only thing that saves you

from infinity is your own breath and

your cells’ decisive birth and death.

+Tiny cannons dabbing at cerulean, another kind of blue. 

+Red: the last color lost on the way to the ocean floor. 

+pulse pulse pulse

  pulse pulse pulse 

+I know that military cut
close to the head
close to the throat
  Depth of guilt directly correlative
to the degree of sin
  Morning shave arithmetic 
  Nick, whisker, blood speck

+Faith, To a Beta:
a stone man in a diving bell.
False coral paradise, fluorescent filter hell.

No one really reads this yet. I'm kind of glad for that. 

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