(via lifeinpoetry)
(via adhdbeachsloth)
eramos dos muejeres solteras sentadas en una mesa para seis,
almorzando sin mirarnos. las mesas de mi alrededor conversaban,
nosotras permanecíamos en silencio.ella bebía café con esplenda.
yo tomaba té frío, a la roca.ella comía pan blanco con jamón y queso.
yo comía ensaladas de aguacate y…
Sweetest
Little candy in death’s candy shop,
I gave your sugar a lick
When no one was looking,
Took you for a ride on my tongue
To all the secret places,Trying to appear above suspicion
As I went about inspecting the confectionary,
Greeting the owner with a nod
With you safely tucked away
And melting to nothing in my mouth.—Charles Simic, from My Noiseless Entourage (Harcourt Inc., 2005)
De cuando el poeta se prepara para su lectura
De cuando termina su lectura:
(via neo-logismo)
“It’s today,” squeaked Piglet.
“My favorite day,” said Pooh.”
(via poetfire)
(via crackerfawn)
i wonder who is coming to my funeral
i can’t destroy my ego
i can’t stop wanting
the trend remains to delve in pareidolias
watching your patterns and imagining that i am significant
i’m no poet
i’m a conspiracy theorist
i’m an empty carton in your pocket