from Kevin Connolly, “Sundial”
I have my rant about transience and intransigence.
You like to run down the simile as a viable
artistic strategy—you call it “sex througha sheet,” but the way you call it that
makes it seem so vividly sexy: the sheet
with my name on it, the sad euphemismlugeing its way toward the gap, the
downspout, spinning into unknown.
-
coveringser liked this
-
webeltradme liked this
-
pronunciationex liked this
-
eisenhower402 liked this
-
dvomelchenko liked this
-
dvomelchenko reblogged this from poetryeater
-
sumofhismisfortunes reblogged this from poetryeater
-
brittlelittlebranches reblogged this from poetryeater
-
ruemorgue-avenue reblogged this from poetryeater
-
gracielalala liked this
-
paperlesswords liked this
-
poetbabble liked this
-
trulymadlyme liked this
-
atlanticiste liked this
-
poetryeater posted this