trail
Spring: a dictionary poem(i.) In the beginnings of things there are the pink folds of petals. (ii) Life springs undeterred.Spring: a dictionary poem
(iii)Commonly a spring into something more pure, the poet struggles with words, for an instant relishes her cradle of curved branches, venerates, then gives up for less than planned.
(i) Despite their momentary uselessness, it is seen to that baby birds are fed, because their tongues spring (iv) out of their squawking beaks. Patterns emerge. The springing tongue of a baby sparrow triggers a (v) spring in its progenitor to vomit into its throat.
For some reason something ensures that some things don’
Encyclopedia BrownEncyclopedia brownEncyclopedia Brown
Sorry, E.B., my childhood friend. That’s right, and you, Mr. White, I have forgotten what you said About spiders and pigs.
You get out too, Hobbes, There’s no room for tigers. I have read the Leviathan.
Little Prince, why have you stayed? The drawings of sand dunes Where you died, like breasts,
were cushions for a toy plane, The asteroid, rose, star and glass case. Maybe French money redeemed you.
But Encyclopedia Brown, what have you brought me But root beer and blindness? A certain sense t
Juveniliasee a series of particolored fragments of beach glass, lined up in a windowsill, and the time around them they rest in time like teeth in foam, they sink into the time like foam. see the row of pebbles on the curb, a young styrofoam biter placed them there for you, stack of flat rocks by the river, the chains we make of objects we hang from, we hang by chains we make ourselves, you made me forget you made me forget, you made me forgetJuvenilia
see a diamond some one died for. see the clear water of my heart you reached into water pure as beach glass, lightly scratched, slightly cloudy, and touched somet
that sand
Love
--
I wish I was a sailor with someone who waited for me
I wish I was as fortunate, as fortunate as me
I wish I was a messenger and all the news was good
I wish I was the full moon shining off a Camaro's hood
--
I wish I was a sailor with someone who waited for me
I wish I was as fortunate, as fortunate as me
I wish I was a messenger and all the news was good
I wish I was the full moon shining off a Camaro's hood
--
"You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves."
-Mary Oliver, Wild Geese
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