A hundred million pearls of words;
riddled seashells on threshing room floors.
vomit
Blog Archive
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2009
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September
(18)
- Right now I am really fucking soup
- Trying To Say
- I dreamed we were a charcoal sketch, us smeared wh...
- A hundred million pearls of words; riddled seashel...
- which day?
- wild surmise at sunrise
- Satan approaches Eve from the bush, looking like a...
- Hell's hunting hound surprised me in the dry grass...
- I walk with a cane, an old oak thing. On it I lea...
- Squat on his quartered hind (his torture price for...
- I lay my head beside the willow tree
- i have been told it is very rude to yell butYOU AR...
- Guard this dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon
- Sleep is a gentle thing, beloved from pole to pole...
- I'm certain that his blood wasin the painting,on t...
- i keep your teenage poetry
- chaque matin//d'habitude
- Pot of Cabbage
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September
(18)
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