jueves, 18 de febrero de 2010

.it seems we drive forever but can never get away from here

veronique meignaud

Sometimes, you say, I wear
an abstracted look that drives you
up the wall, as though it signified
distress or disaffection.
Don’t take it so to heart.
Maybe I enjoy not-being as much
as being who I am. Maybe
it’s time for me to practice
growing old. The way I look
at it, I’m passing through a phase:
gradually I’m changing to a word.
Whatever you choose to claim
of me is always yours;
nothing is truly mine
except my name. I only
borrowed this dust.

"Passing Through" by Stanley Kunitz

viernes, 12 de febrero de 2010

.asymmetric, a sad novel by an anonymous poet

when parrots fly from his open mouth
... he tries to speak, repeating worthless,

worthless? I'm trying to love you

but I don't know how, & then
I start to remember—we are locked together
& pushing, pushing.

bits of "Worthless" by Nick Flynn