My Girls.

I finally found out how to use my scanner.
Invites for the Poetry Performance at the end of the month.

Growing Old

My wife and I take turns in the bathtub. All day long. We look at eachother’s bodies, aging by the moments and I understand what people call “love”.
Today, she took my pruned fingertips and batted her eyelashes on them one by one.
We want to know that we will be accepted even when we develop goose chins and raisin toes. And we will be.

We Want Grits: AM SLAM Poetry: A force to be reckoned with!

We Want Grits: AM SLAM Poetry: A force to be reckoned with!: "November 4, 2010 -Thursday afternoon I profiled one of Slippery Rock’s newest and most promising student clubs :AM SLAM Poetry club. Bein..."

Projections from an Unknown Place

I am nineteen with my head in a bush
And my hair in my face.
I spit out my insides
On the lawn of a stranger.
I trip and fall into a warm place
And feel my bird bones break.
My body is a mystery
And I get sick inside my purse.
I feel old and grown and tired
So I try tying my arms to the ceiling
To stay awake.
I smell cake and I vomit everywhere.

I have a cyber school education and no occupation.
You are unexpected and Bad Timing
But I think of how you will climb.
You will climb the books, climb the cabinets,
Climb the curtains and the walls.
You will try to climb to heaven.
I wanted to go to France, I wanted to play harp,
And learn languages with my hands.
You are the things I don’t know
And the words that don’t exist.
You are composed of multiple pieces
Of personalities and rationalities.
I don’t know who I am, but I know you.
You are the trees, the bees’ knees,
My mood swings, needle and string,
The sleep I can’t receive.
I haven’t dreamt since I saw you on that screen.
You are the moon, you are an animal,
You are thunder breaking my ribs.
You were born at conception,
A miscomprehension.
You are a boy, I can feel it.

Inverted Forest

Mr. Antheter has quite a long nose; so extended, in fact, that his allergies are roughly .25 percent more terrible than those of the average human being with a regular sized nose. He has a wife, so understanding and accepting of this unfortunate facial trait, who kisses him with her head turned almost completely to the side. This is how he knows that she cares about him. She forgets the date of their marriage ceremony, and she sleeps in rather late every morning, leaving Mr. Antheter to flip his own pancakes. But when she does wake up, boy, she smooches her husband sideways with passion that is so often forgotten when lips become familiar.

project, cnt'd.

Newest project.