voices take liquid form
and drift down from heaven so
that prayers take hold of your hair
and ask it to cling to itself. mountain dew
out of your hands. selected works
of soda, wished away by
the voices of
descending angels.
30 Tuesday Apr 2019
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in29 Monday Apr 2019
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inTags
Hearts made out of cardboard that
set on fire after they’ve
been left in the rain for days. Its winter and
everyone laughs at them for being
so soggy and full of colour. roses get painted
on glass until
no one can see past the
flowers, no one can
find space to draw
or fire to melt it all.
28 Sunday Apr 2019
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inTags
roast my brain until its premium and
you can drink it. it will give you jitters
until you
fall, fall, fall
into the spring, spring, spring. banana
trees line rusted villages. seagulls drink
at disinterested fountains. life lines lemons
with painful validity. salt spring. salt springs.
until banks empty and crows sing.
27 Saturday Apr 2019
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inWhere we were waiting wasn’t
much so cold as it was
bitter with air. the breeze was strong, but
the noises were stronger, furious in
their segments. her friend turned to her and
sang about the past and how
heartbreaking it could be. ‘I know,
I was a child once too.’ They both agreed
that teeth were too sharp for
adults to have.
26 Friday Apr 2019
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inTags
Money exchanging hands in the
south of gate, behind the castle and
when they
are caught, then tried, they
are asked to confess to
their greatest sins. One says freedom, the other says
singing. a magistrate has no time for them, so
he orders a hanging. their faces become
drawings, cartoons visible in the stratosphere.
25 Thursday Apr 2019
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inat the edge of the estate, where italian counts
from all ages have come to
pass into the next life, I spot
the dirty coloured fortune teller. He has
been spreading lies about me
all over the
dreamscape and the image of my
privates have descended into a
new realm of poverty by his hand. I run
I run I run
24 Wednesday Apr 2019
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in23 Tuesday Apr 2019
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inYour face tomorrow is grown
crooked and
slick, like an ice scuplture. It waited out in the rain and
then it got rusted as a
result. Your face is
like the sea, salty and
shifting, today you hold
life inside you, tomorrow, men will gather to smoke
at your lip. You’ll see it, you’ll
smell it. coconuts will
drop from your head.
22 Monday Apr 2019
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inIf we can reach back far enough
into our memories and
the early venus, from these
stupid mornings. where
dawn wasn’t broken, but it should have been
and the shore was just too far
away. stupid geese don’t lead the
way, they trip over themselves
despite both wings and water.
21 Sunday Apr 2019
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intwisted oaks swaying in
the snow drifts
at the scene of the
incision. he blames the
world for what they didn’t
do, that she was so young and
full of sacred fear. that when
the gangs of youth galloped
westward, they forgot the mountains
with them. she listens, but
she doesn’t comprehend.