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"slonimsky" poems
Mostly, it sickens me that our notes sent back and forth are measurably more pleasant than conversation We share in person. I bet that paper lotus is gone. Interchanged sentence fragments both homeopathic and calculated by lamplight. I bet that bookmark is still in the same place. Even comparing you to Ivan would be a stretch, Who are we kidding. Dmitri. But that’s still not the name I call you ante meridiem. I bet Freud was right, but I never called myself a boy. A . Eb. Six steps. Slonimsky dedicated so many pages to you. I guess I will distill the Ocean for salt. I can’t say any of this to you, the most honest I’ll ever be is in a poem I hope you’ll never read.
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Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 10:41 PM UTC
stanley-david
Nom de Guerre
Mostly, it sickens me that our notes sent back and forth are measurably more pleasant than conversation We share in person. I bet that paper lotus is gone. Interchanged sentence fragments both homeopathic and calculated by lamplight. I bet that bookmark is still in the same place. Even comparing you to Ivan would be a stretch, Who are we kidding. Dmitri. But that’s still not the name I call you ante meridiem. I bet Freud was right, but I never called myself a boy. A . Eb. Six steps. Slonimsky dedicated so many pages to you. I guess I will distill the Ocean for salt. I can’t say any of this to you, the most honest I’ll ever be is in a poem I hope you’ll never read.
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