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Literature Text
THIS IS THE LIFE
(June 28, 2011, 1:30 p.m.)
Sitting in a broken-open cardboard box in my doorway,
my sandaled feet outside,
my torso and head inside,
leaning against the wooden door,
clad in my boxers,
eating mixed berries
and using my laptop,
enjoying
the cool dryness inside
and the rainy humidity outside,
simultaneously,
And as the sun
comes and goes
through the clouds,
I am content.
(June 28, 2011, 1:30 p.m.)
Sitting in a broken-open cardboard box in my doorway,
my sandaled feet outside,
my torso and head inside,
leaning against the wooden door,
clad in my boxers,
eating mixed berries
and using my laptop,
enjoying
the cool dryness inside
and the rainy humidity outside,
simultaneously,
And as the sun
comes and goes
through the clouds,
I am content.
Literature
Winter
onderwater groeien bomen ondersteboven
de winter is een spin
die tussen takken haar witte web weeft
waarin het zonlicht blijft steken
de kou ruikt als poedersuiker
op smoutenbollen
de kou klinkt als de belletjes aan de halsband van de kat
aan de koelkast hangen
onder de verlopen waardebonnen
en het tijdsschema van lijn 86
foto’s van dode kinderen
bevestigd met een magneet in de vorm van een ananas
mijn man houdt van ananastaart
ik niet
ananas smaakt naar angst en mislukking
ik houd van bakken
ik klop het deeg met de hand
het geluid van de kerkklokken
wordt gedempt door het web van rijp
dof zoemend gebrom en heldere tonen wisselen
Literature
Love
Love
Flower, flower
Sweet, red and mine
You make my world spin
You make my words rhyme
Blossom, blossom
How pretty you are
The te
Literature
Steady On
My world did not tilt
The first time we touched.
Ironically, it was my body's collapse
And a knee slammed into marble
That made me reach out to you in the first place.
After voicing my request to your general outline,
Blurred though it was where it exceeded the frames of my glasses,
You reached down, all concern and missed cues and
Reassurance.
I placed my hand in yours,
And felt my world recentre as I rose to my feet.
We lingered like that for a moment, perfectly still.
I gave your hand a feather-light squeeze in thanks.
You held on a heartbeat longer,
And then we unlinked.
It would be wrong to say that we disconnected,
For something came to
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An impromptu based on a series of tweets.
It's moments like this that make life worth living.
It's moments like this that make life worth living.
© 2011 - 2024 seadog-driftwood
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