"mangum" poems
i am the blood in the sink
you are **** on the bathmat
wash me off so we forget this
failed flailing at repose's feet.
("maybe we can make each other's
winter's feel all right.")
no, i cannot make you quake
in my mocha movement,
draped in careful quirk
pastel enraptures
fantasies of argyle.
drawing your fingers into motion
along fantastical bony parts,
effulgent with the newness
of thrush april wetness,
i have never felt so pasty dry.
May 2, 2013
May 2, 2013 at 2:53 PM UTC
'This is the room one afternoon I knew I could love you/and from above you how I sank into your soul,' Jeff Mangum croons through the crackling speakers
...similarly simple,
like the coyness of corner smiles,
I am exposed
finally
to your bedroom,
and the snug universe you've built within.
Cross-legged on your bed
I hear your nervous, careful stories.
Spoken into fidgeting fingers, silken wrinkled
bedsheets debauched and re-washed--
your words fall into them so easily
like you've found benevolence in their silence--
their softness as language.
Imbibing every ounce of you,
I wish to endure
like the canvases that span your wall.
But I dissolve back into winter
as you regain your right mind.
The ascending stairs creak
hungover and meek
like me
Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 2:09 AM UTC
Bolo tie
Primped and fly
Dining on nostalgia, for nostalgia’s sake
Living off the food at Kurt Cobain’s wake
Pressing a Mangum to your head
A case of Velvet dread
Addicts caught up in the Reed(s)
Sticky Fingers and their steeds
A Moonlit Mile
A case of Kurt Vile
A Day Dream Nation’s falling apart
Little Wing's lost its heart
Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 5:01 PM UTC