and this is the world in the form of a map mountains are knuckles and nations are blotches of failed pigment and this is my skin and that is where rivers run * I really do forget the drawings, and the poems. I call this a blessing — to be surprised, upon finding them later, and to feel almost as if they were done by someone else, as, in a […]
Very high humidity, smoke, mold — is it any wonder the sinuses have been aching, and that the body has been laboring, the past few days? One looks at his mossy skin and isn’t surprised to find it seeping and dripping like the canyon walls. Gutter Journal, Numb. 2. October 22, 2023. Cleaned back gutters and downspouts. I didn’t read today. But I thought about it. October 22, 2023. . […]
A few light strokes / on skin / you first / thought / was paper October 28, 2021 . [ 1272 ]
There is a seam in my glass mug, but no hem and no zipper. What holds the two edges together? What keeps the neck from raveling? The mug is wearing a glistening pendant with transparent chain: A bead of moisture suspended, a sweet drop of rain. Her skin is the color of coffee: trembling, scented, reflective. There is conversation: memory: faded print, falling away. October 25, 2021 . [ 1268 […]
William Michaelian 