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Archive for January, 2010

This quiet dust was gentlemen and ladies And lads and girls; Was laughter and ability and sighing, And frocks and curls; This passive place a summer’s nimble mansion, Where bloom and bees Fulfilled their oriental circuit, Then ceased like these. -Emily Dickinson

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The tongue of the waves tolled in the earth’s bell. Blue rippled and soaked in the fire of blue. The dried mouthbones of a shark in the hot swale Gaped on nothing but sand on either side. The bone tasted of nothing and smelled of nothing, A scalded toothless harp, uncrushed, unstrung. The joined arcs [...]

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The White Fires of Venus We mourn this senseless planet of regret, droughts, rust, rain, cadavers that can’t tell us, but I promise you one day the white fires of Venus shall rage: the dead, feeling that power, shall be lifted, and each of us will have his resurrected one to tell him, “Greetings. You [...]

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