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be important, i beseech you. wield safety pins and broken hats. be that which cannot be defined, and wander home to thunderclaps. —light the way for me, oh blooming rose and corpse softly lit. come home, it says. come home, come home. be scattered letters wrought by shaking hands, and scattered grains wrought by shaking sands. be far away and none at all. and fine! be fine! be fine! profess that shade doth fall on wilted leaves, that boots of worn and weary

I was smelling a freshly built fence and thinking of being held. — my dad’s a contractor, a carpenter to some — I am at a loss...

it must be your fault. three quotes I’ve been ruminating on recently: “I rejoice that things are as they are” – ash wednesday, t.s. eliot “I have been half in love with easeful death” – ode to a nightingale, john keats “to sleep, perchance to dream” – hamlet, william shakespeare your fault. it must be YOUR FAULT. you are no nautilus shell, you are no evidence of intelligent design no sign nor tell no shrine nor hell OH, HELL! I rejoice that I have been half in love wit