Sing to Me, Man

about rosy toes and eskimoes, all you know on damsel doe

City Crossing

There are weeds in where the concrete puddles on the basin’s fringes,
The armpits of a borderland intook, nip tucked and lip-straight,
like a smile with warm extending up into the eyes
and down into the breastplate of the city I lived in
so thoroughly and fervishly

Pressed up against a solid force field of Oxford English,
A wall prettied with subway maps
like my childhood Sky Atlas in the mud

Aren’t I left yet?
Which of these kilometers,
laid and ticked-out like a 2-dimensional railroad,
a prison wall chalking,
is The capital “K” kilometer,
the Saving Grace Kilometer

Those iron spun balconies wrapped in bows on Sundays,
I’ll keep the pictures
The refugee neighbors, their spidery noodles
I’ll remember how the steam cupped,
and the pot spitting like a grayish pet cat

Hurts doesn’t it,
bare feet spoiled by grass and carpet
refusing dirt dessert,
blistering out of their BandAids,
her skirt, they say, her skirt!

And the ferry, there it goes above me
over my head like a smart joke
over my head like the leftover science skull that serves as knapsack

If I jam an anxious hand down my throat,
Can I pick out that last flake of soot stuck to my left lung,
the last gray sud of a 20 year shower,
mimicking the lady from the tickets so convincingly?


drake in the anaconda video and van gogh’s ‘at eternity’s gate’

(via auxius)

Older man running and thinking down the beach

An old man was doing push-ups at the end of a beach run,
I saw his veins so wiry,
it looked like they would take root in the sand rock,
eking out a tree with salt and seashells for fruit.

How unlike a tree was his resistance to sag and sap,
how revolutionary his hatred of dry!

And where did his soy-based moisturizer fit
in the willow vs. wallow marathon that was taking place
in all kinds of cavities?

Buzzfed from a Young Age

With a list I can get EVERYTHING OUT:
1. A list doesn’t belabor
2. Moves without labor
3. It organizes itself
4. Like a shelf of shelves
5. Slick and slim
6. With a big toothed, dim grin
7. Shoots first like Greedo
8. Soft as mosquitoes

I want to abuse you like a library card

—Me when I’m talking dirty


Ivan Aivazovsky - Pushkin’s Farewell to the Black Sea


Ivan Aivazovsky - Pushkin’s Farewell to the Black Sea