ethan-taylorWhisper

American

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Haiku #5Autumn has arrived / The acorns are falling / **** those gray squirrels

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Language Is a Skin*Language is a skin: I rub my language against the other. It is / as if I had words instead of fingers, or fingers at the tip / of my words. My language trembles with desire.

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O My Delectable Magnificent!O my delectable magnificent! / Thou art so subtle and, in truth, divine; / Thy taste doth merely whisper peppermint

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An Open Letter to Jimmy PollerWe used to sit / in your bedroom / and climb onto the roof

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Happily Never After (Oh Noetry)When you left, you took my heart with you and the two of you skipped off into the woods of my past / The ruddy drops my heart left behind were eventually gobbled up, like highly metaphorical breadcrumbs, by the birds of time / And like those two children lost in the forest, neither of you will ever find your way back... to me.

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We, the Pioneers"And your very flesh shall be a great poem." / -Walt Whitman / And your *******

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These Things I EnjoyBridges, / trains, / balloons, ships,

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I Was a ChildI was time / I was pictures and I was poetry / I was a pond and the fish that swim in it

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Morning's Mysteries ExploredThis country sky is growing a light / Casting shadows across the fields / Like the ones across your body

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Rhythm And A Little GirlOn the quiet nights, if I lay perfectly still, I can hear my own blood flowing through my veins / Surging at irregular intervals, like an ocean finding its rhythm / And I think of how far this imperfect heart has brought me

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