"What the Winter Don't Know"
the house become a landscape lost to myself
in the dim rays of morning
in the one lit corner of the dark house
empty most of the time
bound on its own trajectory of change & decay
contingent otherwise wholly soapbubble
i start the coffee machine
without spilling a drop
perhaps i am only dreaming of this life
and i am really a plasticized corpse
on public display in a futuristic museum
"I want Baghdad to feel like home again."
They will call me cougar.
Institute for the Study of the Neurologically Typical.
A family epic about Global Warming: someone buys land in the high latitudes & waits.
"Someone like Hedy makes it impossible for us lesser mortals to say, 'I’m too old for this shit.'."
"Now, all art is impossible. That is its special function."