Kim Addonizio, ‘What Was’, What Is This Thing Called Love: Poems
Posted 3 months ago
“Now I am quietly waiting for the catastrophe of my personality to seem beautiful again, and interesting, and modern.”— Frank O’Hara, from ‘Mayakovsky’ in Lunch Poems
Posted 3 months ago
Started thinking about mushrooms, this never goes well. How they take fallen trees, mighty in life and quietly passing. How they carpet and whisper, telling the fallen how the saplings are growing, reminding the fearful they are returning to the heart of a warm and loving forest.
“You will watch over them?” the hearty oak exhales final breaths of oxygen, intaking the earth that was its home once before sprouting, will be their home now upon composting.
“Every acorn,” Mycorr promises, laying their dryad fingers into the bark, inlaying spells that bore the forest’s first.
“You will tell them I was brave in the face of storms?”
“We will sing your song every rainfall. Now rest, now is your twilight, you have earned this peace my friend.”
And now I’m having Feels about trees and mushrooms, and fuck this timeline
Posted 3 years ago
Today I learned that the Pentagon was supposed to be the Octagon.
But the contractor kept cutting corners.
Posted 3 years ago
Posted 3 years ago
I bought a guitar the other day but it doesn’t work.
Guess I should’ve known when the seller said no strings attached.
For the random things I find and don't want to lose, and nothing more.