May 2013
8 posts
April 2013
11 posts
I take the sun like a lover, lie naked under its radiant gaze, finally safe, as when a young man faces me on the train and begins to sketch my crossed legs. Can I take the touch of his eyes tracing an ankle, moving up my black tights from five feet away? All flesh is grass.
- Julia Kasdorf
27 sentences
-When I was little, I used to stuff dolls up my shirt, pretending I was pregnant. -Before they gave birth, I remember watching our rabbits scratch their fur off. -While feeding them grass, I would let them bite me. -There are teeth marks from teething babies on my parents headboard. -Jokingly, people have asked if my parents are rabbits. -After accidentally setting the basement on fire, the police...
March 2013
6 posts
into the strenuous breifness Life: hand organs and April darkness, friends i charge laughing Into your hair thin tints of yellow dawn, into women-colored twilight i smilingly glide. I into the big vermilion departure swim, sayingly; (Do you think?) the i do, world is probably made of roses & hello: (of solongs and, ashes) -e. e cummings
February 2013
20 posts
Truly as the sun can rot or mend, love can make one bestial or make a beast a man. - Marianne Moore, from Efforts of Affection
Let the snake wait under his weed and the writing be of words, slow and quick, sharp to strike, quiet to wait, sleepless. -through metaphor to reconcile the people and the stones. Compose. (No ideas but in things) Invent! Saxifrage is my flower that splits the rocks. - William Carlos Williams, “A Sort of Song”
even heavy, hard things can be beaten into other things, transformed entirely the way milkweeds translucent parachutes become the stuffing for a soldiers coat. - Julia Kasdorf
January 2013
26 posts
