august 29, 2014

extra, extra
lock it in
a vault
and never
fucking
talk about
it again

my dreams
are just
serial killers
finding
creative
ways into
my house

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august 26, 2014

woke up and
didn’t like
myself
much

i wish it was foggy

i don’t feel like
looking at
the people on
the other side
of the street

look like a
french school girl
who just discovered
being an adult is
not so glittery

cigarette and
sad eyes

of course
the bugs
are orbiting
because
they know
i don’t have
the energy
to fend
them off

talked about some
manic depressive tendencies
last night

talked about some
girls you’ve french kissed
last night

fire hypnotizes

it should be used
to pry secrets
from spies

you can have all my secrets,
i don’t need them

occult geometry

i’d like to remind you all again of the monthly zine i’m helping to curate and design.  please send your submissions on this month’s subject of “seasonal transitions” to occultgeometryzine@gmail.com.  we are primarily keeping this a literary zine, however we are still very much in need of any mediums of visual art to accompany the wonderful writing.  as well, we’re still accepting poetry and prose submissions so keep those coming!  submissions will close on august 29 and the first issue of occult geometry will be available september 1.

if you submit, please include a bio as we want to promote you!  all contributors will be mailed a physical copy of the zine (if you’re comfortable providing me with your mailing address).

august 21, 2014

horses and
acrobats suspended
from ceilings

my mother has
all these grand ideas

grateful to be here,
wanting to go home

i think i like her
better drunk,
slurring over
compliments

here
sober
i am just
unfulfilled
potential

good thing
i stopped trying
to live my life
on everyone else’s behalf
when i stopped
romancing death

i’m fine
eating the fruits
of my efforts
alone
anyway

august 20, 2014

autumn bit

air sharpened
its molecules
overnight

i am anticipating
all my favourite
shades

brisk walk and
you are cold and
everything is
always an
adventure

i hated
love poems
before
we met

i smoke
some pot with
the television
cooing

i am sure the
noises and the
pictures mean
something

but i’ve just
remembered
the first time
you kissed me

very gently
on the top of
my head

and then

very gently
on the side of
my face

and then

very gently
directly on
my lips

and then

my fluttery stomach
in the taxi
home

i am a child
of seasons

i will love you
so splendidly
through this
winter you
hate