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10/25/2014 ”darling, it’s frightening! when a poet loves he might be an unshrived god enraptured.” - Boris Pasternack The late october sun hugs our faces with a looming brilliance. 
We are propagandic youths emblazoned on a poster in orange tint.
Looking forward to our victory– our war efforts, living in pride
 followed around corners and sidealleys 
by a most vague sense of wrong. and when you turned to me to look–
 I realized, with a horrible feeling, I was in a sort of strange complacent love. 
 It’s not to say i was in love – That had happened months before when I’d refused food and drink at the Independence day celebrations
 smiling at chinese invention gunpowder in the american mideastern 
sky. But to say I was good with whatever was, albeit jaded, but i would never dream to say it.
 And as we sat in the car rolling over dead leaves that were on stems months before You asked me “Do you still like me?” 
“well,” i replied – I had just lain with you 
 in a hushed affair with whispered I love you’s
 how could i not like you? Carnal wanton needs— hell of a thing.
But, I added 
things were easier before that. Now when I think i am to wait weeks until I see your face 
It seems wrong
 and this poem is far too long
 to just be saying that I love you so perhaps i do not.
0
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 8:09 AM UTC
kdmills
Brumaire
10/25/2014 ”darling, it’s frightening! when a poet loves he might be an unshrived god enraptured.” - Boris Pasternack The late october sun hugs our faces with a looming brilliance. 
We are propagandic youths emblazoned on a poster in orange tint.
Looking forward to our victory– our war efforts, living in pride
 followed around corners and sidealleys 
by a most vague sense of wrong. and when you turned to me to look–
 I realized, with a horrible feeling, I was in a sort of strange complacent love. 
 It’s not to say i was in love – That had happened months before when I’d refused food and drink at the Independence day celebrations
 smiling at chinese invention gunpowder in the american mideastern 
sky. But to say I was good with whatever was, albeit jaded, but i would never dream to say it.
 And as we sat in the car rolling over dead leaves that were on stems months before You asked me “Do you still like me?” 
“well,” i replied – I had just lain with you 
 in a hushed affair with whispered I love you’s
 how could i not like you? Carnal wanton needs— hell of a thing.
But, I added 
things were easier before that. Now when I think i am to wait weeks until I see your face 
It seems wrong
 and this poem is far too long
 to just be saying that I love you so perhaps i do not.
Continue reading...
22
9/30/2014 Manhattan, new york city, new york you got to wonder September saturday nights walking down church street. the man on his smoke break gives me a smile on the corner of 9:30 at night and i return it even though it isn't wise because it seems kind, a smile i’d like to get to know better. in the taxi i think uninspired thoughts, running along the sidewalk’s lining sidewalks i’ll probably never walk on and this is when i realize Manhattan is a small island. back on the train i think that monday mornings wouldn’t be so bad if I lived in Manhattan crosby street or wall, but then i think of all the manhattan schoolkids that seem like they know everything and i think: do I really want to? back in Princeton i think that i am bored and i realize far too much has changed from april, the raw essence still the same seeping at the core of the stem, however and i accidentally step on an ivy league cufflink. I think to myself i probably wouldn’t think so much if i was in manhattan.
0
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 9:35 PM UTC
kdmills
Garment district
9/30/2014 Manhattan, new york city, new york you got to wonder September saturday nights walking down church street. the man on his smoke break gives me a smile on the corner of 9:30 at night and i return it even though it isn't wise because it seems kind, a smile i’d like to get to know better. in the taxi i think uninspired thoughts, running along the sidewalk’s lining sidewalks i’ll probably never walk on and this is when i realize Manhattan is a small island. back on the train i think that monday mornings wouldn’t be so bad if I lived in Manhattan crosby street or wall, but then i think of all the manhattan schoolkids that seem like they know everything and i think: do I really want to? back in Princeton i think that i am bored and i realize far too much has changed from april, the raw essence still the same seeping at the core of the stem, however and i accidentally step on an ivy league cufflink. I think to myself i probably wouldn’t think so much if i was in manhattan.
Continue reading...
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