September 2009
1 post
moving back to the old tumblr. seafolding is now... →
August 2009
43 posts
The Experiment - Idra Novey
owlswallowvowels:
We all sensed we were in it, but didn’t know who would fund this long a study, what the premise behind it could be. I suspected it was about ethics, but the next week seemed as much as a test in coping - the artistry of partial views. But if so, who’d been scripted as the control group? Was it us, wilted for all to see in the humid city like so many tulips crushed into a...
all answers to the same question by charles jensen
1. The Union Negotiator I have a deal for you: tonight when I sleep I’ll think of you. Of red rocks, of bull pens and spurs, Kansas Turnpike, of Missouri, how you’ll meet me there, a continental divide, the places where two ends meet. My legs will make a circle around you, your waist; my lips will have secrets to slip over yours like a paper bag. 2. The Cartographer I am land-locked....
I miss you in an unquantifiable way, like how someone would miss a concept, ideal, memory, void. Is it possible to miss something that you never had? Just as love is virtually negligible if never felt or known by its recipient, it’s immaterial that I might love you. And yet, I don’t allow myself to crave you. My timidity, my inferiority complex, my shame, prevent me from voicing this missing above...
“We have to create culture, don’t watch TV, don’t read magazines, don’t even...”
– Terence McKenna (via poortaste) (via takeiteasylovenothing) (via weareinfinite) (via makethemyths) (via motels)
The Forgotten Dialect of the Heart | Jack Gilbert
scantmusic:
srsly:
How astonishing it is that language can almost mean, and frightening that it does not quite. Love, we say, God, we say, Rome and Michiko, we write, and the words get it all wrong. We say bread and it means according to which nation. French has no word for home, and we have no word for strict pleasure. A people in northern India is dying out because their ancient tongue has no...
Flickr: Geninne's journals →
The Lettered Set →
“SOME people spin on their high heels,” Jill Kargman was saying the other day. “I spin on my paper.”
“A writer should have the precision of a poet and the imagination of a scientist.”
– Vladimir Nabokov (via rustycornbeef) (via mfs) (via kirstenbecken)
July 2009
20 posts
1 tag
a heap of language by graham foust
I switch on the light and clear the table. You come from the ocean and dry yourself. Inside us, apologies inch their way around. Most of what we say will hardly matter.
“If you love me, Henry, you don’t love me in a way I understand.”
– “Wishbone” by richard siken
“you’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you,...”
– “you are jeff” by richard siken
