( via / me )

"In an age of over-mediation, it is perhaps inevitable that, when one begins one’s writing life, the self is viewed as the default subject, and the pseudo-empiricist interpretation of the world through the naive-but-evolving self as the default mode of seeing."

   the pair that sometimes splashed
our backyard pool, two ducks assumed were one,
have some time past held off; my hopes, half dashed,
   still glance with work undone.

   they'd found their way across
a thousand miles or more, with season's lapse;
then once i moved too quickly—creep like moss
   not cat, lest you seem traps—:

   thus turquoise stands the pool
empty, as ever, while cicadas reign;
the furious clasp of fire to wax & wane
   unwitnessed, save one fool.

Memorial by Rudolph Valentino.

"slow night
sinking into the weeds
taking me in its arms"

—@poemexe.com

"The answer may surprise you."