theloniousWhisper

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PrologueIn California, days in cars / bathed in orange, by the / kindness of strangers.
261
Oct 29, 2025
The Room FoldsThe clock stutters like a drunk trying to remember the hour, hands slipping past their marks in quiet rebellion, as if even the machinery of time is aware that it too is being watched. And still, the sun pretends to rise, tilting through slats in a way that should feel familiar but instead fractures against the floor in shards of awkward light. No one is here to sweep up. / You lean against the frame of the day, letting it take the shape of your weight, though the frame itself seems to waver, unable to decide whether it is holding you or merely reflecting the idea of you. This is, of course, how it has always been, convincing you of your own coherence while their edges blur and buckle. The face looking back is half-yours, half-worn down by the eyes that refuse to rest, circling over the same hollow cheekbone like a vulture without an exit strategy. / Outside, the streets are unspooling quietly, laid bare like the backs of old photographs someone forgot to caption. The dog walkers, the paperboy, the woman in the red coat who insists she’s been here forever, all folding into the rhythm of a place that neither fully exists nor fully disappears. They step over the cracks like dancers rehearsing a fall, their shadows uncertain if they are cast by them or left behind.
52
Jan 3, 2025
untitled3Drifting sand as appetizer, curling / wave as prolonged planing, proof / of concept in vellum paper, swirling
16
Sep 1, 2023
untitled2The bird bellows low, thrusts its / chest, dander spitting through hot bark / it calls with innate confidence and questions,
17
Sep 1, 2023
untitled1Frozen ragweed slipped / into my dream, laid bare / the shadows between
28
Sep 1, 2023
iambic tetrameter2The monkey strives for both abode / Japan devout the flame in road / Iran disburse a name it mutes
14
Sep 1, 2023
iambic tetrameterUpon and lake perchance to dream / It floats in fall convert to steam / Create the inward and twice ash
19
Sep 1, 2023
untitledThis world is dog shit, / this world is dying, / these things are true,
4
Aug 21, 2023
Mornings poemMornings are a time of brand / recognition, are the affirmations / of our silicone dreams, are the
35
May 5, 2023
Raining hellRaining hell and fleeting / karma, again, in the fetid brush, / again in singing debris
26
May 5, 2023
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