The Cuffs

love poem

08.08.2005 The Cuffs

I’m snug as a bug in a Barthes book and you have stolen my hole collection You put them with my mouth guard, pictures of giraffes balanced, a dry air bear, cottage cheese, the chewer and of course the chewy

Tagged as: After Barthes

Read More →

To Be Ascetic (1st draft)

07.05.2005 The Cuffs

Is a picture of orange tree, picture rough leaves, droplets’ sent-up light, plots, oranges evening falls on. The mountains. This hustler in shorts. Regardless, burning in the middle of the tree, up, in its way a system look, one jigging the tine the thing stem unready, a moth The wolf to you a blunt cusp [...]

Tagged as: After Barthes

Read More →

The Heart

02.12.2005 The Cuffs

Heart perched on ice water. It a purpose parting the tips of ice awry, entire end of one country in window flips light on the water. Night is on up ,the paper and pins. to the very very / lit lamps. while sea spreads like a document. At night, at night on the governor.

Tagged as: After Barthes

Read More →

Agony

11.29.2004 The Cuffs

It’s the great tragedy – just great. Days rolled into little balls with small lights inside them. He says: My first kiss felt like an ave maria. I call anything that has happened ‘once.’ & we ditty ditty ditty do we do do do *** Just look at us, headless as usual, sitting around a [...]

Tagged as: After Barthes, NP

Read More →

Laetitia

11.29.2004 The Cuffs

The Hackneyed Water Walkers Skim the Water Document. They are All Awn. Tinily. Like Psalms Said The Feelers First Sit, then Stand, Then Go Against It Synaptically. Fast. Lest They Be In or Nothing On It.

Tagged as: After Barthes, Out

Read More →

The Dark Glasses

11.18.2004 The Cuffs

When I cry, I place a piece of cloth over my face. At all costs. I am still a child. I bear my clothes.

Tagged as: After Barthes

Read More →

To love love

11.08.2004 The Cuffs

I’m doing dishes in my bra. This is half of a sign. You lean in the doorway, so I slowly undress. Your legs are lean and white on the kitchen tiles. You are weaving your fingers, which are numerous, into this, which is not a sign. Which is lugged on the stove like a grocery [...]

Tagged as: After Barthes

Read More →

Adorable

10.29.2004 The Cuffs

I have a crow. A dumb one all the sudden likes to talk. Love like it’s dinner he says. Black snow is impossible so don’t even try it. Squawk, squawk. The bird is a small version of my ex-husband one who held me like an overcoat, spouting ‘adorable! adorable!’ I remember the water all over [...]

Tagged as: After Barthes, Animal Poems, NP

Read More →

The Tip of the Nose

10.02.2004 The Cuffs

You are a good man (just a good man).

Tagged as: After Barthes

Read More →

Atopos

09.18.2004 The Cuffs

When you make pork loins, you are cooking. It is the unclassifiable pork loin of you. I eat the animal you are and the animal slain, your reflection in my spoon. I eat as an affront—I’m starving. I’m fasting everything outside this room. There’s you, your miraculous pork loins, and nothing.

Tagged as: After Barthes

Read More →

← Previous Entries