Wednesday, February 2, 2011

5 comments:

Tasha Klein said...

a broken space
in an empty room
far from town
under him
small as dust

or -

the slinky anagram
the forgotten password
a soft bullet
don't sleep yet
your crescent tracks
crack
his head

Tasha Klein said...

I go to bed

wearing nothing

but

your cold weather

I see

into the window of my pillow -

you are sketching

my heart

in small circles

Anonymous said...

untitled
by peterlord

the bottomless sadness
of being an object;

I cannot escape the shape
of my own imprints

Anonymous said...

what not to tell him -
by anesthezia

that he is a dead-beat dad

and has no hair
under that hat/cap

that he has a disease
called
pedophile do cryptic

that he wouldn't know a spider from a cat.

that you can cook every thing around him
better than that

..


that he is the only one who every checks in
twice a week
to make sure you aren't dead.

that his mother wasn't asleep under the kitchen table,
she was just passed out like that.

..

that he is a coward, a thief and
if you had brothers in the area
they'd kick his ass.

Anonymous said...

from chels -

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q76itxTs-90