Tag Archives: language
Not burning, not siege, not flood, not cold front, not atomic scourge, can destroy the Word, a lasting first, and inviolable measure, voiced to raise itself eternally anew. Advertisements
Thistles, structuring a feral paragraph in open space, as the stray feather, cruciform to fence, parlays the canticle of Muse, unfettered.
If, in words I found you wanting, lean to perish, would silence bestow a second, surer opinion?
To caper at the edge, where the seething lyric happens, poetry with slits and fast teeth, where the hours of phenomena are boiled and reduced to a single quivering instant, an umbilical knot of light upon tenderest scraps and coils. … Continue reading
To be swallowed, wordless, as the worst you always feared turns lighted proof into lasting scripture.
Scattered, like numinous sleet of commas, the faeries intimated bright shards of language, not yet discovered or long since forgotten.
Do you know where your children are? Or rather who, in their ripening pedigree and new language they are in the process of becoming? Make no mistake they are not nor have they ever been yours belonging infinitely to the … Continue reading
Seized, I am in the ripe feral grip of the new language she is speaking. Her voice fronting a glassy, ciphered edge, a grifting menace. Every calculated utterance bears double and triple meaning, with common intent to baffle, disarm, intrigue, … Continue reading
It is, I think, the rote platitudes and uniform responses drawn from an armored template or assembly-line gremlin (another day another dollar, same old same old, can’t complain, yea but you’ve got to be realistic) that are the slow malignant … Continue reading
At risk of possession by fire, how, in the ripe grip of new language, we grow feral along a trackless rim, greening desire.