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 Aug 2016 z
r
The light of mourning
 Aug 2016 z
r
There was a girl
I used to swap paperbacks
and spit with, once
I fixed her wiper blades,
I remember the soft dead wings
on the windshield,  pretty
as you please

She was alone in her shoes
listening to something
that kept getting darker
and glowing like morning
on the oil spilled under her truck,
she was drifting through
the rosewater of her soft red hair

She only wanted to be rolling
off a swollen river, sliding
out of a clean slip, turning
over in a deep sleep, trailing
a shimmering thread, hiding
under a pile of wet leaves

Then there she was sailing
in her river of blood,  going
white and smelling like smoke
from a struck match behind
closed blinds on a ceramic floor,
a white blouse red as a sharp knife
collecting the light of mourning.
 Aug 2016 z
Woody
The man smoking
a Lucky Strike
is humming and the hearse
only has one spare bed,
an omen or a stroke
 like the scent of coconut
pie at a wake, an envelope
with his name in bold,
another summons
from the final judgement,
big tobacco, good luck.
 Apr 2016 z
Ronza Jairy
Take  them off that
Pedestal

You
Are
On
The
Same
Level
For those moments when you question yourself, think less of yourself and begin comparing your grass to others and get down. You are worth every bit of admiration you invest in your heroes, exes, friends, crushes and celebrities out there. Imagine where you could be if you restored some of that faith you give to others freely. Begin with a breath of belief and repeat after me...[reread poem]
 Mar 2016 z
katie
crow
 Mar 2016 z
katie
today a dark 
sky is
   wrapping
itself around
my town,
squeezing
    all that
surrounds
in its strong
muscular
   hands, one
solitary crow
    manages
to slip free,
flies over
highways,
      streets
& trees,
I watch it
enviously as
it disappears
thinking
what I
would do
      for a pair
    of wings
 Feb 2016 z
N Paul
Untitled VI
 Feb 2016 z
N Paul
Will I stand upon the heath and rid my heart of sleeping grief;
Will I crawl on trembling hands and shed my tears upon the sand;
Will I lie in muffled night and brave myself til sweet sunlight?
 Feb 2016 z
chris
 Feb 2016 z
chris
you've always hated coffee
i knew i was a coffee addict
but that's not all i got addicted to
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