hath the power to assume a pleasing shape
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20 Monday Apr 2015
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19 Sunday Apr 2015
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A girl with a burned tongue became/ quickly half-baked.
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19 Sunday Apr 2015
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I make blow dryers envious.
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19 Sunday Apr 2015
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What magic will you find to stir/ The limp and languid listener?
from On the Future of Poetry by Henry Austin Dobson (1840-1921)
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19 Sunday Apr 2015
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Naughty bits crammed into massive outfits.
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19 Sunday Apr 2015
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Be my sun-drenched lurid pear.
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19 Sunday Apr 2015
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Sometimes I think it would be fun to start a cult, but I’m a terribly lazy person so I suppose I’d be putting the “cult” into difficult.
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19 Sunday Apr 2015
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No, I do not weep at the world — I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife.
Zora Neale Hurston
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19 Sunday Apr 2015
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‘Ingrata patria, ne ossa quidem habebis’ (Ungrateful fatherland, you will not even have my bones) — dying words of Scipio Africanus, the greatest general Rome ever had.
19 Sunday Apr 2015
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another lonely night, little blue flower I call mother, me and Sappho keep our secrets, poem, Poetry
Little blue flower, Sappho,
I’ve been waiting for a
friend to speak this
language with but I am
alone so I speak to myself.
memories of my ghost sista 