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Literature Text
Starling
Starling fell into my garden
Like a desperate feather-bomb
A dark little Icarus
Shrieking for the nest-warm
I held it in my hand
Struggle-straggle bony form
Stubborn-stupid brave
Soft and skeletally warm
Breast still young with down
Fluff and flutter and scaly feet
Clasping at my finger
Tiny half bald feathered heat
Little blinking eyes stare up
Black-bright-squeezed-shut fright
Beak bobs, hunched shoulders
Life-weighted and yet so light
I remember the transformation
Between desperate and calm
I remember Starling
The tiny heart-hammer
Against my palm
Starling fell into my garden
Like a desperate feather-bomb
A dark little Icarus
Shrieking for the nest-warm
I held it in my hand
Struggle-straggle bony form
Stubborn-stupid brave
Soft and skeletally warm
Breast still young with down
Fluff and flutter and scaly feet
Clasping at my finger
Tiny half bald feathered heat
Little blinking eyes stare up
Black-bright-squeezed-shut fright
Beak bobs, hunched shoulders
Life-weighted and yet so light
I remember the transformation
Between desperate and calm
I remember Starling
The tiny heart-hammer
Against my palm
Literature
lies, lies, lies
sometimes i wonder if love is nothing but
broken hearts and false smiles.
tell me you're happy when the silences are
louder than explosions.
tell me lies.
is it worth searching for something that
crumbles beneath
your fingers?
i keep drifting, i keep
spinning.
i keep -
i am lost and i have lost the truth.
slowly, it's
all
falling
apart.
[i look between everyone and
learn that happiness is not together].
Literature
making medicine and memories
our laughter mingles
seeping in
to one another's skin
over miles
or
over breakfast
it makes no difference
it's something distance
can't divide
the dark recoils
Literature
The Storm
Bending breaking bloodied baking
in an oven's sickness spreading,
Smeared across a white pure sky,
Teardrop one ink spot and
ripple...
ripple...
ripple...
out until I die
Trapped
in this oven built by life's unfairs,
Permanent colors smudge my retinas fused with welding flares,
Blindly stumbling crumbling through this oven's savage thundering,
A rotten throbbing gasping storm is brewing-is coming
The air no more, the sky though
It swore
I swear it swore, it would never be put out anymore,
Now blazing tempests roam, the oven swallows the sky I used to know,
I beg it, beg it, beg it: show me the sky once more, once more...
once more
I
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Comments33
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I read this because Jay featured it.
I love the way the connection to warmth, to heat, to life permeates the piece.
And I am glad it did not end with a cold baby bird.
I love the way the connection to warmth, to heat, to life permeates the piece.
And I am glad it did not end with a cold baby bird.