skip to main
|
skip to sidebar
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Poem
inspired by Deborah Stratman's
In Order Not To Be Here
What lupine
machinations
operate
(un/seen)
giving us
safe
clean
well-lit
places in the night?
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
throwing art into the void
circles... all the way down
This venue serves as both medium and laboratory, an attempt to examine the shape of nostalgia and experiment with the contours of memory.
View my complete profile
concentric circles
whatcha lookin' for?
"time is a scam"
►
2024
(358)
►
December
(24)
►
November
(30)
►
October
(32)
►
September
(29)
►
August
(31)
►
July
(31)
►
June
(30)
►
May
(32)
►
April
(29)
►
March
(31)
►
February
(29)
►
January
(30)
►
2023
(367)
►
December
(31)
►
November
(32)
►
October
(31)
►
September
(29)
►
August
(31)
►
July
(32)
►
June
(30)
►
May
(31)
►
April
(41)
►
March
(35)
►
February
(17)
►
January
(27)
►
2022
(368)
►
December
(30)
►
November
(49)
►
October
(22)
►
September
(22)
►
August
(32)
►
July
(30)
►
June
(30)
►
May
(46)
►
April
(16)
►
March
(29)
►
February
(29)
►
January
(33)
►
2021
(364)
►
December
(37)
►
November
(23)
►
October
(33)
►
September
(27)
►
August
(31)
►
July
(46)
►
June
(21)
►
May
(27)
►
April
(33)
►
March
(28)
►
February
(34)
►
January
(24)
►
2020
(366)
►
December
(31)
►
November
(32)
►
October
(30)
►
September
(28)
►
August
(33)
►
July
(31)
►
June
(33)
►
May
(29)
►
April
(30)
►
March
(31)
►
February
(36)
►
January
(22)
►
2019
(367)
►
December
(36)
►
November
(29)
►
October
(30)
►
September
(27)
►
August
(33)
►
July
(33)
►
June
(28)
►
May
(33)
►
April
(37)
►
March
(28)
►
February
(24)
►
January
(29)
►
2018
(367)
►
December
(33)
►
November
(30)
►
October
(30)
►
September
(30)
►
August
(32)
►
July
(29)
►
June
(31)
►
May
(31)
►
April
(30)
►
March
(33)
►
February
(31)
►
January
(27)
►
2017
(366)
►
December
(32)
►
November
(29)
►
October
(34)
►
September
(27)
►
August
(33)
►
July
(32)
►
June
(28)
►
May
(30)
►
April
(32)
►
March
(29)
►
February
(29)
►
January
(31)
►
2016
(365)
►
December
(31)
►
November
(31)
►
October
(30)
►
September
(31)
►
August
(31)
►
July
(28)
►
June
(33)
►
May
(32)
►
April
(28)
►
March
(30)
►
February
(29)
►
January
(31)
►
2015
(363)
►
December
(31)
►
November
(30)
►
October
(31)
►
September
(30)
►
August
(34)
►
July
(29)
►
June
(30)
►
May
(31)
►
April
(29)
►
March
(30)
►
February
(28)
►
January
(30)
►
2014
(369)
►
December
(31)
►
November
(30)
►
October
(30)
►
September
(31)
►
August
(31)
►
July
(33)
►
June
(32)
►
May
(30)
►
April
(29)
►
March
(32)
►
February
(28)
►
January
(32)
►
2013
(286)
►
December
(30)
►
November
(31)
►
October
(30)
►
September
(30)
►
August
(33)
►
July
(32)
►
June
(30)
►
May
(31)
►
April
(30)
►
March
(8)
►
January
(1)
►
2012
(42)
►
November
(5)
►
October
(7)
►
September
(5)
►
August
(4)
►
July
(6)
►
June
(3)
►
May
(2)
►
April
(5)
►
March
(1)
►
February
(2)
►
January
(2)
►
2011
(137)
►
December
(6)
►
November
(9)
►
October
(10)
►
September
(12)
►
August
(13)
►
July
(18)
►
June
(13)
►
May
(20)
►
April
(7)
►
March
(3)
►
February
(9)
►
January
(17)
►
2010
(236)
►
December
(24)
►
November
(17)
►
October
(23)
►
September
(19)
►
August
(14)
►
July
(15)
►
June
(22)
►
May
(24)
►
April
(23)
►
March
(18)
►
February
(16)
►
January
(21)
▼
2009
(258)
►
December
(17)
►
November
(20)
►
October
(25)
►
September
(17)
►
August
(20)
►
July
(22)
►
June
(23)
►
May
(23)
▼
April
(19)
something about books, covers, and judgment (rambl...
this morning
yesterday morning
the Burgh
the first ten minutes of waking
(ostensibly) finished
Poem
the home stretch
how to get from point A to point B
"Taylorism has been around since Taylor."
there's a mélange in my mouth!
Whitman Sleeps Tonight
cusps, communes, and...
the con
diaphragm v. paradigm?
a short story about the weekend
sorry i opened my mouth
zip it
rabbit v. dream
►
March
(24)
►
February
(22)
►
January
(26)
►
2008
(172)
►
December
(30)
►
November
(29)
►
October
(27)
►
September
(25)
►
August
(23)
►
July
(19)
►
June
(18)
►
May
(1)
No comments:
Post a Comment