|
1 |
I meant to write you about the poppies. |
Poem |
|
334 |
13 years ago |
|
2 |
Written in the same flame hand |
Poem |
|
421 |
13 years ago |
|
3 |
My knight in shining ardor |
Poem |
|
284 |
13 years ago |
|
4 |
Written in the same flame hand (Revised) |
Poem |
|
419 |
13 years ago |
|
5 |
The safest form of loneliness |
Poem |
|
259 |
13 years ago |
|
6 |
The heart, when put on the stand |
Poem |
|
260 |
13 years ago |
|
7 |
A hungry ghost lusts |
Poem |
|
254 |
13 years ago |
|
8 |
The honey southern soil |
Poem |
|
257 |
12 years ago |
|
9 |
The midwest pollinates death |
Poem |
|
287 |
12 years ago |
|
10 |
The heart needs dark glasses |
Poem |
|
666 |
12 years ago |
|
11 |
My dear |
Poem |
|
318 |
12 years ago |
|
12 |
I want the man who stands |
Poem |
|
289 |
12 years ago |
|
13 |
I’m sure you have met my lover |
Poem |
|
452 |
12 years ago |
|
14 |
This morality pornography |
Poem |
|
278 |
12 years ago |
|
15 |
the blind spineless mollusks |
Poem |
|
429 |
12 years ago |
|
16 |
Unparasitized |
Poem |
|
194 |
12 years ago |
|
17 |
A viciously gilded cathedral |
Poem |
|
259 |
12 years ago |
|
18 |
dredged from lakes of domestication |
Poem |
|
439 |
13 years ago |
|
19 |
of course I see beauty swarming everywhere |
Poem |
|
587 |
13 years ago |
|
20 |
Never a virgin to speak of |
Poem |
|
330 |
13 years ago |
|
21 |
If only my body were built for tourists |
Poem |
|
259 |
13 years ago |
|
22 |
I pray to genetics |
Poem |
|
463 |
13 years ago |
|
23 |
Bitten bullets muffling my double blind cries |
Poem |
|
444 |
13 years ago |
|
24 |
I wanted you to love me ugly. |
Poem |
|
337 |
13 years ago |
|
25 |
I would lock summer in a nunnery |
Poem |
|
250 |
13 years ago |
|
26 |
The gates to your insipid Eden |
Poem |
|
226 |
13 years ago |
|
27 |
The children always ask for names. |
Poem |
|
273 |
13 years ago |
|
28 |
Honeybees have no need for souls |
Poem |
|
331 |
13 years ago |
|
29 |
No poem this week. See blog. |
Poem |
|
227 |
13 years ago |
|
30 |
My bruises scarred his thin skin. |
Poem |
|
476 |
12 years ago |
|
31 |
A heart that cannot yet use tools |
Poem |
|
347 |
12 years ago |
|
32 |
Their slick-heeled afterlives |
Poem |
|
352 |
12 years ago |
|
33 |
We have no radio |
Poem |
|
272 |
12 years ago |
|
34 |
Miss Nightingale’s broken birds |
Poem |
|
336 |
12 years ago |
|
35 |
The membranes on the eyes of men |
Poem |
|
279 |
12 years ago |
|
36 |
Wool smells like a rusty memory |
Poem |
|
214 |
12 years ago |
|
37 |
I wanted you to share |
Poem |
|
292 |
12 years ago |
|
38 |
The lenses nestled in my cells |
Poem |
|
359 |
12 years ago |
|
39 |
you are the golden symphony |
Poem |
|
429 |
13 years ago |
|
40 |
A speck of dust, a mote, a plank |
Poem |
|
447 |
13 years ago |
|
41 |
My pen dries in the outside world. |
Poem |
|
259 |
13 years ago |
|
42 |
I let myself in with the cliche under your mat |
Poem |
|
286 |
13 years ago |
|
43 |
The vines of my machine |
Poem |
|
232 |
13 years ago |
