Tag Archives: #aprpad

The Art of Going West toward Ottawa with a Complete Forgery of Vermeer’s ‘The Little Street’ in Our Trunk, After the Rain Stops Once Again

{for Grandma Moses} . Don’t stop when we get to the border, no matter how shaken , stirred we are by this heisted hum. Don’t mourn that moon behind us, or this star-scarred sky, or that sinister shade of blue. … Continue reading

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hum again

even when the world shouts loud and the heart breaks easy, even when the devil’s in the details and the day’s tales and the dawn, even when your song is silenced. be numb again. then thaw to sunrise, surrender to … Continue reading

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Bones

(an erasure poem) This poem is the sludge of her pencil, the long lost magic of that gold paint noise.   In April, we poem.    Erasured from this poem from day 21: Bare Bones This poem is drawn        (and … Continue reading

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hang a left when you get to the moon

she’ll show you the way to wane, to whim the hands of time to darker sides. go straight for the stars, dot-to-dot math a path to that horizon haze, and hold the day loosely in pin-pricked points. sway right at … Continue reading

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when evening comes

, and the day’s all wrung out, small and silent – buzzing sunset burned to cricket song, I’m lost in the long …………..(shadow) -gone ghost of you, and the sky’s too small for such an intricate heart.   .. In … Continue reading

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banished from the castle

  . She’s the giggle at a funeral. ………..– from “Take Me to Church,” by Hozier … she’s been flung outside again to think on it, consider her royal calling, the grace from which she’s forever falling. she of dirty … Continue reading

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Completely Smashed

.. against this midnight-silent sky, he is all rum -bled song (how many bottles of beer on the wall? We’ve lost count.) He’s cashed in and crashed on our couches and trashed his last joint and pointed at that tattle-tale … Continue reading

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