sumthing sumthing is wat i reely want to say.
sumthing sumthing sumthing is wat i reely reely want to say.
i imagine i’m slated for beheading at 7 pm
i will most likely have dinner beforehand
cooking early so i could digest prior to perishing
i have 4-and-a-half hours left until then
the current moments feel good, passing slowly
like i have forever left; the house is quiet
my cat’s sleeping near her purple zany ball
its chip-sized battery depleted years ago
i will be sure not to read or watch a film
for fear time will zip past and then boom:
7 pm’s double zeroes bulging out at me
sort of like those loops on a noose
at the reading the poet threw down his walking stick with notable disgust
i no longer want to capitalize the letter i
in addition to no longer using an uppercase i
i’m considering discontinuing question marks after questions
know what i’m saying
periods are being re-evaluated as are sentence and paragraph breaks too and commas nothing is sacred
blue so blue ever so blue like ice candy rock sky ever blue like rainwater sky over blue over sound over ocean over cream over island over water over hope over meaning over time
i will not spill it. You must learn in bits & pieces — shards at times — requiring a longish span of commitment. How long are you in for? It will look somewhat like this over the course of our lives: one day a bowl of strawberry ice cream; the next, necessary sleeplessness and a recurring nightmare; then favorite colors; old careers and professions of mine; and internal strife, struggles & fights with relatives & former boyfriends. Lesbian lovers. It will all come in time, this tide of mild & mania. It will all come in time.
the woman, chin up,
totes gold metallic flip-flops
Her feet slap against
the creaky dock at dusk
this story is all about the ending so why don’t we just cut to the chase. The ending is that the protagonist is an avid photographer. The ending is that she is staring out of her bedroom window on moving day. The ending is that it is a beautiful spring morning. The ending is that she is looking at the gazebo near her apartment building. The ending is that there is a bitter-sweet beauty about the gazebo. But the ending is that there are also painful memories attached to it, linked to her former relationship.
still, the ending is that while she is looking at the gazebo, she realizes that it seems to be extra beautiful on this particular morning. The ending is that there are birds fluttering around it because it is mating season, and that there are trees near it, making it all very scenic and idyllic. The ending is that it looks like an animated fairy tale. The ending is that she has always particularly loved photographing nature, too. But the ending is that she does not take a photo.
the ending is that the movie camera shows the audience a close-up shot of her digital camera, sitting on a chair, its strap wound neatly atop the seat, and suitcases and boxes around the room. The ending is that the room has hardwood floors, and the woman has always loved hardwood floors. But the ending is that the woman is leaving.
just the suggestion
just the suggestion of everything with you is like fuck
just the suggestion of everything with you
just everything the way you just sit there
just everything is just fuck
tiny centuries deep within us
deep within us there is us
tiny centuries and us
and yet here i am
in time i’ll be done
and yet in time.
this is somewhere where
you float don’t get me wrong
why is that on my mind
that this is somewhere?
is this somewhere you could float.
In the summer the sparrows sound
like you’re watching the tide
The grackles soar like seagulls
over ocean foam spouting from the 12 bus
Passengers undulate over every bump and street-wise
pedestrians are like mushrooms in the tropics,
wearing floppy hats while going about their tasks
In the summer there’s a beat you can listen to
on a boom box as if beneath water —
the top-40 songstress’ voice hazy and gurgling in the distance
In the summertime every day here
is like you’re living near a shoreline.
I think this might be the first time i’ve mentioned my artwork on this blog, and it’ll most likely be the last. Still, i do collage art, and to me, that creative process shares many similarities with writing poetry. But anyway, i just wanted to invite whoever to check out my art website. I am open to commission work to do book covers and other visual elements for both print and online. The artwork already on my website also is available for such purposes. If interested, simply use the contact form here on this blog or the one on my art website. Thank you, and i hope you have an inspiring day.
— Cassandra Keenan
- you’ll need a certain amount of water for this
- some butter
- x-amount of milliliters of heavy cream
- lemon rind
- a pint of apple sauce
- strawberry preserves
- some milk (a must)
- a number of pine nuts
- now stir
A mosquito police chopper.
Guava is to moon
as sun is to come
Guava is a meal
pineapple & island meat