Art Will Save Us

A strand of music will float over to us: a poem, a prayer, a battle-song, a peaceful landscape will come to mind, a lazy road outside the public library, it will all come to us like a memory

Advertisements

I killed a poem

One cold summer night I killed a poem mine, a nice little thing, the color of clear blue sky. I pulled out the entrails, from its innards, Fleshy, raw, ropes, of bloody words and innocent ethics, beautiful, if not pretty. I laid them out to dry on my desk and colored them pink with the… Continue reading I killed a poem

”A Cryptic Thing of Philosophical Proportions” OR ”Specks of Dust”

I walked into the crypt today in a city that shines with lights of fairies and lush green life. I walked downstairs today, in front of Christ’s image, and landed here: into a crypt.

The Average Multitudes

I try not to write of them, of these mounds of flesh stuffed with discarded polythene bags of vegetable peels, last night's dinner, and borrowed principles. A newly-married woman, growing fat, her eyes dead. A man complaining about the job at which he's bad. A girl telling me her heartbreak story. I try not to… Continue reading The Average Multitudes