October 2011
23 posts
8 tags
6 tags
Refrigerator Magnet poem #1
He said
look.
But the
smile
came from the wall above.
In the distance
the crow
congratulated
the cold water
wake.
Art Attack five minute poem
We weren’t always machines.
Your frosted breath birthed steel
like cheap Midas. Feed me screws
and kiss me with hammers
until we melt into summer
shadows coated in velveted
barbed wire.
4 tags
This is a song I wrote in fall of 2010 for one of...
The French Seam →
This is a wonderful little sewing shop in Indianapolis!
5 tags
Pumpkin Cream Cheese Muffins!
I got this recipe from Allrecipes.com, but I have a few notes you can read at the bottom! I made these over fall break and they were delicious!
Ingredients:
1 (8 ounce) package cream cheese
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3 tablespoons brown sugar
4 1/2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
5 tablespoons white sugar
3/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
3 tablespoons butter
3 tablespoons chopped pecans
...
Activities for the week of Halloween:
Watch several appropriate movies: Nightmare Before Christmas, Corpse Bride, Coraline, Hocus Pocus, etc.
Drink wine. It’s always a good idea.
Hold a seance in East College
Carve pumpkins
Finish sewing Halloween costume
The Ultimate Hipster Garment →
3 tags
“I’ve been lying in this bed for close to a year, and I’ve had a lot...”
– Danny Darquette, Grey’s Anatomy
"I don't care if she is a tape dispenser. I love... →
5 tags
Late Valentine
We weren’t exactly children again,
too many divorces, too many blood panels,
but your leaning into me was a sleeping bird.
Sure, there was no way to be careful enough,
even lightning can go wrong but when the smoke
blows off, we can admire the work the fire’s done
ironing out the wrinkles in favor of newer ones,
ashy furrows like the folds in the brain
that signal the...
Listen
2 tags
“Sometimes, no matter how much you love someone, they just can’t love you...”
– Grey’s Anatomy
5 tags
“Reality is a sound, you have to tune in to it not just keep yelling.”
– Anne Carson, The Autobiography of Red
15 minute outside poem
You shook these trees for me once.
That photo lives in the dresser at my parents’ house.
I need to remember your teeth.
This year your mother makes two less cups
of soup, you sit on a London curb,
and I rip nauseating white flowers from my own grave.
