An asylum in jaws of the Fates!
Maybe silence adds to the pain and maybe pain adds to the sea
there is always one more death to paint us an ochre without axle aiming us like a sunflower down a path a harp once followed to still the scythe before losing love against itself Dying for a good read? Revive yourself at Academy of American Poets!
Yoked to what? To whom?
for M 1. who conceived that ravine or the contour of those slopes Torbay —washing over him as he swims— is trying to say don’t let the barber shave below his collar 2. I love breathing him in my fingers raking his chest a cub wanders the forest after Andrés Montoya & Francisco X. Alarcón … Continue reading “Hair” by Francisco Aragón