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My Saturday night consists of revision and The Jonathan Ross Show. Have a lovely night!
This was posted 12 hours ago.
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“For Grace, After a Party,” Frank O’HaraYou do not always know what I am feeling.
Last night in the warm spring air while I was
blazing my tirade against someone who doesn’t interest
me, it was love for you that set me
afire,and isn’t it odd? for in rooms full of
strangers my most tender feelings
writhe and
bear the fruit of screaming. Put out your hand,
isn’t there
an ashtray, suddenly, there? beside
the bed? And someone you love enters the room
and says wouldn’t
you like the eggs a littledifferent today?
And when they arrive they are
just plain scrambled eggs and the warm weather
is holding.
This was posted 16 hours ago.
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If a girl ever drives four hours alone in the dark wipe of 3am to meet youTristan Silverman, This Is How It Will Happen
for brunch
if you can imagine her being too young to buy beer,
if she dances in the back without red lipstick watching your mouth
if she links a forefinger through your belt loop, follows you to a home
on a two-lane road over dead rocks and souls left to dry,
past red capes of dust fields,
if you pull over at the road’s split lip and she pulls over, too
if you sit by her pool, sick with no decent pool man, drinking wine
until your teeth are bleeding without apology,
if you continue to tell stories that have no song lyrics to legacy them,
if you tap you forehead twice against the side of her bed she won’t sleep on—
already spreading in the goodbye behind you—
she loves you I promise, though she won’t want to admit it.
This was posted 2 days ago.
