February 2012
78 posts
“Talk, talk, talk: the utter and heartbreaking stupidity of words.”
– William Faulkner, Mosquitoes
1 tag
Sharing Poetry: Robert Frost, "Stopping By Woods... →
Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year. He gives…
1 tag
1 tag
3 tags
social anxiety is when successfully ordering a pizza over the phone makes you feel like a fucking champion
“And the woman said, The serpent
beguiled me, and I did eat.
— Genesis 3:13
...”
– Diane Lockward, Eve Argues Against Perfection (via grammatolatry)
1 tag
1 tag
1 tag
Body Bag
Like the condom in a pinch one size fits all.
Franz Wright
I love my wife. My wife is dead.
In June of 1945, Arline Feynman — high-school sweetheart and wife of the hugely influential physicist, Richard Feynman — passed away after succumbing to tuberculosis. She was 25-years-old. 16 months later, in October of 1946, Richard wrote his late wife the following love letter and sealed it in an envelope. It remained unopened until after his death in 1988.
October 17, 1946
D’Arline, I...
Making Money
Turnover. Profit. Readies. Cash. Loot. Dough. Income. Stash. Dosh. Bread. Finance. Brass. I give my tongue over to money, the taste of warm rust in a chipped mug of tap water. Drink some yourself. Consider an Indian man in Delhi, Salaamat the niyariwallah, who squats by an open drain for hours, sifting shit for the price of a chapatti. More than that. His hands in crumbling gloves of crap pray at...
