A hole is nothing
but what remains around it.
—Matt Rasmussen, from “After Suicide [A hole is nothing]”
or running or jumping or sitting or sleeping or eating or thinking or sleeping or sleeping
"That’s the great thing about politics: success rests in unashamed immodesty."
Anonymous asked: i should eat you. auuuuuuuuuuuuuuu
it was never a question of if i’d die by the hand of an anonymous internet werewolf. only when.
Anonymous asked: because now I do not see the moon... I see a whole world of words connected to an amazing feeling. thank you.
that’s just you becoming a werewolf.
i hope you get to see them & don’t hate my drawings. thanks for the submission.
Anonymous asked: ...or... "The formidable hunter, endlessly waiting for the perfect prey. Vulnerably beautiful. Far from land and earth. Senses heightenend under the moons abyss. Predators decending to a retreat at his sight. Hanging upright and motionless. Gazing ever upwards but out of sight. With energy, unbounded and limitless. Winding an unbroken chain, we are the grazers and the hunters. A toxic lift. Sustained by the icy peaks, and blooming. Filtering nourishment from the audience. To destroy or cherish."
Anonymous asked: A poem for a drawing? "Blistering orchards reflect the cold nights bed. A glimmering pasture of lovers edge, two hearts swing deeply in time. Riddled with boundary; apart they must intwine. Belong to each other as each other belong to death."
I want to be covered in blankets
I want to be consumed by the moon
I want to evaporate and then rain back
into the milk ducts of different breasts
I want my flesh to be inside flesh
I want my thoughts to go, noticed,
I want gossip and loamy signs
I want the Earth
I want to be a part of the separate earth
I want to be the wood that a like figure
chops, carries, sands, refines, uses to build
freedom from equanimity;
Women, I want to be you and be for you,
I want self-possession and I want to be
possessed by you, women, and run
from my own smoke and rubble, goodbye.