100 Day Project Three – Day 9
DAY 9 (January 14th, 2018) WILDFLOWERS What is this futile little game— finding words for that which transcends words? But still, I like to play— It...
DAY 9 (January 14th, 2018) WILDFLOWERS What is this futile little game— finding words for that which transcends words? But still, I like to play— It...
DAY 8 (January 13th, 2018) THE LAST DAY What is this? The last day? On that day you’ll surely wonder— What is this? The last hour? And what is this? The l...
DAY 7 (January 12th, 2018) ANTEROOM Sunbeams stream in perfect planes, cutting polygons in thick shadows where an old man sits— a limb may creak and turn at eve...
DAY 6 (January 11th, 2018) THIS BUILDING SOMETIMES SLEEPS This building sometimes sleeps, sometimes warmly thrums and one’s dreams get lost in its monoton...
DAY 5 (January 10th, 2018) MUSING What is this pure ocean heart, this blue water love, that piques the nose like a pink bourbon rose? Such a one to know! To unf...
DAY 4 (January 9th, 2018) TRUE WORDS True words— petals plucked from the air delicately with pillow-soft fingertips and a dancer’s alabaster wrist b...
DAY 3 (January 8th, 2018) from LETTERS ON CEZANNE You also notice, a little more clearly each time, how necessary it was to go beyond love, too; it’s natu...
DAY 2 (January 7th, 2018) LIFE IS BUT A SHADOW If life is but a shadow, then a dream is a shadow’s shadow, and more is revealed of a thing in shadows than...
DAY 1 (January 6th, 2018) I SAW YOU IN A PAINTING I saw you in a painting— under a bone black sky, in lemon yellow windows, behind which souls, like tallow cand...
I’LL WAIT FOR SPRING I’ll wait for spring when the cherry trees bloom and on my anamnestic skin glisten gilded mornings. Insensible is the withering...