Tag: sleep


I’d never heard this quiet voice of her, this slow talking, this way of speaking which seemed to be attuned to an inside rhythm matchless in quietness and slowness, as if coming from beyond the walls of the house and the yard and the walls of all other houses and from beyond all Aron Awa and from beyond all the mountains


He was like the town bike
everyone got a ride. He was like a ride
that made me vomit. He was like the vomit
I spewed in a Wendy’s parking lot.
He was like a parking lot I lay
down in and let the hail beat and bruise me.
He was like a bruise you discover but can’t
remember where it came from.
What did you smack into?
By now you know his hands
were threats. By now you know
his hands were switches. He was like
the switching breeze that smacked
the chimes against my house the morning
I found out he’d hung himself.


When I go to sleep I do not see monsters, it is your slight figure,
the windows are open and you give it to me easy with sugar and
I still don’t know what too much of a good thing can do, sugar
leave the drapes open—those moonlines have kept me up for fortnights,

Sex Positions

I want you on top.
Let me see
a man cast out of heaven
on my account.
I want to see
the moment
a goddess goes
gilded—right before
she goes on to glory


I whisk myself away, and
appetite follows. My stomach growls
when it’s horny–I mean hungry.
One of my favorite albums is
Sex and Food by Unknown Mortal Orchestra.