size ten, size twelve this time this crap crap life a full fix-up on Ferdinand and Isabella they’re hard dangerous dogs ‘Mom is a cow’
About Alison Leslie Gold
Posts by Alison Leslie Gold:
Blind as a silkworm (jolts from Osip Mandelstam)
thick black coffee of their talk victory of Georgian art sailed with Jason dejection and uncertainty frankly bored on any lifeboat most splendid hand-slapping don’t be sly blind as a silkworm into the walnut night
Wagner cried (notes from Simon Callow)
threw myself at this diminutive root and branch mawkish, spineless this seasick music how he wanted a thousand cartoons in 1813 skill never improved which, for once no view of the Rhine refused point blank ‘luxury, not a luxury’ in Munich Wagner cried ‘love thirsty life’ soul and splender look after Ludwig ‘to(…)
In my uncle’s name (feathers from Zitkala-Se)
a paleface beside her fire a favor in my uncle’s name in my mother’s lap that Dakota sea of rolling green
The violation of solitude (threads from Milan Kundara)
fifteen years after that the causeless its sense lies outside a history drawing to a close a will to divest not intersect that polyphonic message as author, as myself denial of shit one hundred twenty years later before Kafka so the temp the case distant gust make the tragic more bearable any key(…)
Stop bothering the dead (pebbles from Ali Smith)
a twelve month and a day A-levels anymore introduction days were over summer, summer your chair this chair mine, not yours a man’s friend stop bothering the dead foresters tapeworm for eating the evidence novels tick inflammatory and furious
Forty ton boulder (tidbits from Robert Long)
springy green yellow a dish in the next room in 1919 in 1931 and finally dull two men in suits trimmed in white no stranger to car accidents Swedish meatballs and crab pie or up street the forty ton boulder forty cemeteries in East Hampton friends leaning on gravestone from St. Paul a gray(…)
Of what cause, on what day (cinders from Ha Jin)
Pound had of what cause, on what day too romantic to be believed black embroidered her disciple white bones piled like mountains
Harvard alone (tiles from James McGrath Morris)
‘frantic to be gone Harvard alone in the original French ‘our roads divided’ ‘always against something’ ‘more red’ so dotted with Protestant Churches grace itself joined the Russian Red Cross
Father didn’t laugh (mutterings from Leonard Cohen)
do not disturb e-mails inattention to neatly everywhere not enough danger sixty-three poems not the right to disagree boils and blood a hand of wind still sweep the room hundreds of self-portraits water in the wine I’m old and one mean guitar squat above the dead(…)
