Written by littleant on April 29, 2016
Chimera
WritingThe light in this place is a chimera In the morning it sings sweetly rising with clarity of divine purpose behind the blind smiling as it climbs unyielding up the bedspread And slyly slides over the side of the bed Where you used to sleep In the afternoon it lays about in puddles Tripping me
Written by littleant on August 24, 2015
Devil Everywhere That I Been
WritingForgive us now, oh Lord our long forgotten sins There’s blood in these hills, oh there’s a devil everywhere I been Come to me, sweet Jesus a thief in the hot black night Give your royal lips to kiss me drown me in that holy light Forgive us now, oh Lord all our favorite sins
Written by littleant on April 6, 2015
Clementina
WritingToday I walked down to the corner store for cigarettes and wine you hadn’t been home for days and I’ve learned not to ask why The girl behind the counter reminded me of myself when I was younger with bitten nails and scarlet lips and I remembered why I had loved her I think I
Written by littleant on March 27, 2015
Holiday in Mogadishu
WritingCome see the beautiful towers Don’t mind the rubble — a room with a view! Knock out the walls to save you the trouble Look up, look up at the beautiful towers Look up at the beautiful towers Come see the lovely beaches Don’t mind the rovers — what speedy valets! They’ll lighten anything that
Written by littleant on March 25, 2015
Here I’ll Stay
WritingThe fields are burning out the back door the screen door is flapping in the breeze the land that we grew on is sounding it’s death rattle and the house we loved in is breathing smoke like air Here I’ll stay, waiting for our home to burn watching the flames roll in like waves on
Written by littleant on March 24, 2015
Her Belly is a Cold Hearth
WritingHer belly is a cold hearth It sits deep and cavernous inside of her It recalls warmer days with the ease of the dead– the feckless indifference of the already finished She stokes it with whiskey and memories of fire when flames would catch reckless and grow higher and higher Yet empty and dark and
Written by littleant on March 17, 2015
Before You Came
WritingOh, can’t you hear them? Hear their whispering sighs? The pines speak for the wasted ones, in stinging boughs they hide. Oh, can’t you feel them? Feel their longing eyes? They followed me and swallowed me back when you were mine. I’d had someone to bear my blame Before you came Before you came I’d
Written by littleant on March 16, 2015
Still The Birds They Fly
WritingIn the morn’ we’ll go to the firs, the firs In the morn’ we’ll go to the firs In the morn’ I’ll leave you to burn, to burn In the morn’ I’ll leave you to burn Providence comes to the woman who waits and leaves her lover to yearn In the morning we’ll go to
Written by littleant on March 14, 2015
Time Is Its Only Measure
WritingThe ghosts here come and go now, passing through with courteous nods. “We’re afraid we can’t stay long,” they say as they leave rings on the linen, and taint every room that they’ve been in. St. Jude swings from his silver chain turning slowly, looking away. Hanging from my rear view– the only thing I
Written by littleant on March 10, 2015
Apparently I Was In A Mood
WritingI sit staring sullenly, eyes pointed to the left at nothing at all, waiting for you to interrupt me with some noise — some footfall or floorboard creak or impotent sigh — impossibly well-engineered to be the most distracting sound in the known universe. My wonderful, amazing, life-changing work of art has been unforgivably postponed