new vitality perceiving or conceiving Proust attended his wedding ‘very well’ find other ways let’s say official these light waves light waves likewise
Folds
Back to the lilacs (drippings from Amor Towles)
master of the hunt so many buttons reading, reflecting, the usual rigmarole onto Red Square turned his back to the lilacs the rudeness awaited of a belfry window the size of a chessboard doleful eight a great conniving on the docks of Peterhof ‘must learn to say goodbye’ father’s twice tolling clock the(…)
Writing is bosh (droppings from George Orwell)
long lines of bugs marched all day largely foreigners at twenty-five centimes a sock six liters on Saturday’s he declaims that shiver the stones a piece of bad luck the thing you knew your food is bread and margarine food insulting you only food no clothes hardly ever without writing is bosh(…)
Slap time (scales from Jamaica Kincaid
why not a school rain is just the thing be frank, white in need could slap time with people who despise you rare snout-mouth fish
Lethal queen (grains plucked from Colm Toibin)
Every useless thing in my house (specks from Marcel Proust)
lay like scales on my eyes a traveler would be hurrying being made comfortable uncle pulling my curls a rope let down from heaven gusts of memory rooms in winter or lodging ‘that is not the way’ take a mental share unable to guide it back studied the envelope for five minutes loosely-knotted every useless(…)
Other onions (pinches of Colm Toibin)
the more stray memories on nothing much who stole my yellow bicycle four years dead like many idlers this street quarter of anywhere cuffs turn backwards Whistler etchings boiling up in vast ignorant, impudent the most remarkable, inexplicable another father any son dead when he was eight days old unrelenting hatred had ten(…)
Ant’s nose (pressed from Robert Moor)
wet stone, black earth piece by piece ant’s nose exhaled fog fully at home two Texans living in the frigid north faint rain months on end from brown to gray the same stream
I’m poor too (pressed from Sayaka Murata)
tuna mayonnaise glance at the hot food cabinet 390 ¥ please common for him just like stray cats now and then fumbling never the perpetrator ‘we men’ ‘men who don’t hunt’ ‘I’m poor too’ ‘wait, what, since when’ at 110 ¥ help find my name badge with food and sleep now it was time(…)
Feel for a stranger (pressed from George Orwell)
an immediate liking feel for a stranger war-stricken towns or blue overalls bread queue’s horse piss and quavering bugle calls pull the pin out more or less coated excrement everywhere without a handkerchief
