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"photophobia" poems
perfect girl in reverse she moves like the minute-hand of the watch wound up down through pilot all in leather crash into the steel ocean and eat the seaweed until emerge looking like hubcap trash fifty tons of water weight you move home covered in barnacles and flotsam out of the driftwood you built your house where the dogs come to eat dirt & grasshoppers beneath the foundations lie the carcasses of chewedupspitout cockroaches you killed when you were young enough to think that racing greyhounds meant chasing them across state borders you and the peeling paint reading the tea leaves they say time to rip the oil pastel wrappers off so you can't tell which color is which and then draw draw everywhere until you cover the world in color that can't be washed out up off things are no longer crayola clear in the sun you turn on natural lights to **** the wolftooth glare of photophobia sun sneezing out into the porch do you dare doubleyou dee forty these hinges someday man, do you really want this house to have the last word? so that when you cover the fire pit (no stone unturned) and roll over to the cold side of the bed you realize that the pipes are only leaking in your head that the dresser did not collapse that the broken glass & the ants on the floor are not the cause of the blood on your heels cracked like brazil nut shells all along the corridor (perfect girl runs skirt flies up in the back hair whips neck turns hips like a rose in the honeyed dew melancholy untuned viola strings improve the flavor like hints of saffron in her eyes-- she is taller than you remember) the bats (moths between teeth) watch you curiously as though you were standing right-side up cacophony caused by one too few chairs at the dining table.
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Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 1:36 PM UTC
cymbeline & coral-catchers
perfect girl in reverse she moves like the minute-hand of the watch wound up down through pilot all in leather crash into the steel ocean and eat the seaweed until emerge looking like hubcap trash fifty tons of water weight you move home covered in barnacles and flotsam out of the driftwood you built your house where the dogs come to eat dirt & grasshoppers beneath the foundations lie the carcasses of chewedupspitout cockroaches you killed when you were young enough to think that racing greyhounds meant chasing them across state borders you and the peeling paint reading the tea leaves they say time to rip the oil pastel wrappers off so you can't tell which color is which and then draw draw everywhere until you cover the world in color that can't be washed out up off things are no longer crayola clear in the sun you turn on natural lights to **** the wolftooth glare of photophobia sun sneezing out into the porch do you dare doubleyou dee forty these hinges someday man, do you really want this house to have the last word? so that when you cover the fire pit (no stone unturned) and roll over to the cold side of the bed you realize that the pipes are only leaking in your head that the dresser did not collapse that the broken glass & the ants on the floor are not the cause of the blood on your heels cracked like brazil nut shells all along the corridor (perfect girl runs skirt flies up in the back hair whips neck turns hips like a rose in the honeyed dew melancholy untuned viola strings improve the flavor like hints of saffron in her eyes-- she is taller than you remember) the bats (moths between teeth) watch you curiously as though you were standing right-side up cacophony caused by one too few chairs at the dining table.
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50
in the afternoon we chew our pills, sweating the backs of knees, armpits, blessed the skittering of grass on down-brushed shins. pulsing behind our eyes, weeping the veins, shuddering the voltaic nerves. god, the excedrin.
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Oct 2, 2024
Oct 2, 2024 at 11:02 AM UTC
photophobia in summer '24
See infinity stop looking; freeze tag, slumber parties, best friends and looking for the stars. Finding “now” in headstands and long-distance running (and) different ways of saying things: five, seven, five, beating, drum, beating. Don’t worry, you can (still) be a wordsmith and (still) choose Your own adventure. Photophobia, _________, ________   ____________ ___________  ____________ ideas (stealing real estate) and no space left for this thought (to develop) (stay sharp) Don’t dull the senses; the light won’t help you see if your eyes are closed.
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Jul 3, 2019
Jul 3, 2019 at 11:52 AM UTC
Look up (renga for my mother)
watching as the sun arises, she awaits for darkness to reoccur. the light scares her. all she knows is to run and hide. a.b.
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Jul 31, 2023
Jul 31, 2023 at 6:52 PM UTC
photophobia