house hunting

does this make me home do I have to be like I’m home and run the broom and watch the home of my life turn off all the lights, turn off all the lights, turn off all the lights while I’m still there watching home go dark feeling fucked night after night unsleeping just thinking this is fucked my home has no shoulders and no …

The find is a finding

I have avoided the press and it shows. I have not published anything. I come home to watch the walker walk up & down a narrowly green lawn.  I strum sometimes with a burgeoning purple that goes brown. My collapse, once assumed inevitable, is narrowly greening. So it’s so. I think I can report Being pregnant is …

Bunny Blues

Before I had Tilda, I came home to an empty house between 6-8:30. I laid down and turned on the television and thought about the books I wanted to make or that I should be making. Sometimes I made books. Sometimes I just shut off for an hour or two. During those hours nothing and no …

Idontknowanything

Bad Mommy

This is the fridge and. This is where the bottles go and where the wine is. Here’s where and how you will sleep. I hope you sleep. well. The word for what gets taught is curriculum, yes? not curriculum but content. not content but value. ephemeral. wind. when I blow hard upon her face, she squints and it is little …

let fly a little fart of knowledge

Baby Sonnet

here here here is baby way too mired in rubber rings and leftist leanings: meaning she’s rolling over now. A little gyre of hands and legs and head proceeding fitfully into history. Spitfully. It’s writ on the rags of overwashed elephants and throwaway pinks and the bunny infantry (could I) would I curb this development? …

IMG_3956.JPG

Note 6/2

Smoothing the waves of worry / ironing out the exigencies / sewing to / bone folding one over another / making a uniformity / making a stack of uniforms / straightening stack / the “lack of” fabric being ordered / being new sheet / enveloped / thus a system as whole breath / cut up / straight …

my honeycomb. my bunnyloam. my funnyhome

3 months & 8 days older

Some of it is an onion to the extent that crying is nigh. Crying is high. It is both imperceptible and imminent and arranged in off-pattern jazzishness. A little uh-uh-uh / aaaahhh-ahhh. & come I hither in a glaze of unctuous loveydoveries, buttery buns, something’s got to smooth the rough pits in my honeycomb. my bunnyloam. my …