francis-scudellariWhisper

American
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StringsThere are strings. Nine strings? No, nine of some-wheres, / plus one black when. Back then, they weren't strummed, but they're / vibrating from, or to something. Something flat. Real is flat. Real and
6
Dec 12, 2013
look forWhat you should look for isn't . what the screen tells you (it) is(n't) suspicious, Look for . not what's packaged and left . unattended, Look what's right (be)for(e) you, It's the sparrows' shallow hops . down narrow aisles, They stop and go . unafraid and even if unrewarded . (it) do(es)n't stop them, Follow where they go and know what s(cr)een(s) can('t) be trusted.
1
Aug 18, 2013
There but forThere but for now. here, The grace of unknowable gods goes. me a mere trace of what they can be, I don't know them or I can't. but I do, Know they're not. too mighty or merciful with their slightest. hands, Those invisible but not invincible hands. they used to grant me life.
1
Aug 6, 2013
the rain bowedThe rain bowed, deep, and the sky spoke in strokes of cheap yellow about how its time is short, or shorter. It spoke about how. How's a tall order. It would sort the how out with the clouds who applauded. They're still applauding the rain.
1
Jun 28, 2013
As pretty as deathIt's not all pretty. this life. me. But what's not, can be. Pretty. It's not all sweetness, and light. this life. me. But what's not, what. stings. tangs. bites. What casts shadows, it can shed light. Or give sweetness. As unpretty as it is. An upturned bug, big. brown. hard. Its legs, twitching toward death and night. Sour, and ugly, and yet pretty in this fading light.
1
Jun 25, 2013
said isn't toldsaid isn't told. said / isn't telling. i've told / the hours to slow.
9
Mar 29, 2013
i am what cani find, and i've found the seconds / stay still, and / they move faster as i count them.
28
Mar 29, 2013
falls, fallingthis dark-proud night doesn't fall, its partner light / leaves. i did fall, falling into a night / that was hidden. i fell, and i'm falling
6
Mar 29, 2013
In this time of rapture, moonbeams scatterWhen you weaned me from the waning moon, / its milky cusps, winking welcome / moods of starry surrender, I was lost
20
Mar 14, 2013
dozen-n'tA dozen starlings / dozing in the evening sun / doesn't dare the season's end.
6
Mar 10, 2013
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