1. 2
    22
    Jul

    Mining

    We have to find it first, water trickling
    into his eyes, I let the mountain
    percolate in my stomach

    brisk air, enough to keep gypsies
    where no wanderer should go
    red-roofed rubies dance somewhere

    near his heart anticipation balloons
    amber bones dangle against caverns,
    not what I’m searching for

    find opaque quartz studded with
    gold, how were you created, what
    chemical reaction gave you such

    radiance? black water trickles across
    your eyes, now, minerals or guides,
     we can’t talk about it now

  2. 1
    21
    Jul

    Omens

    Watermelon cubes
    filled up the plastic cup

    that was advertised as sangria
    watermelon cubes with dots of blueberries

    most of the cubes you spit at
    crows and passing cars,

    the pattern of the seeds warns us,
    oncoming rain showers

    gray and blue drops catch on
    his curled eyelashes, they look so long

    we make a break for it, find shelter
    under an abandoned ticket station

    the tin roof applauds our escape
    from the summer shower

    we wait for the drops to pass and
    watch as a crow pecks at a sparrow

    until the sparrow and the shower both
    stop rattling. The crow carries

    the limp sparrow into high branches
    of a nearby tree, then flies away.

  3. 2
    21
    Jul

    paperfingermag:

    The Hourglass Issue featuring Jeremy Jones available August 1st, issuu.com/paperfinger

  4. 1
    20
    Jul
    Issuu.com/paperfinger

    Issuu.com/paperfinger

  5. 2
    20
    Jul
  6. 5
    18
    Jul

    Self Harm

    You left the poinsettia I (stole) got

    for you in the Rotunda or maybe

    the breezeway.

    Seasonably gray clouds foreshadow

    thick dots on window panes,

    heavy drops roll, puddles comfort

    cracks in the cobblestone path

    as we walk further away from red

    silk petals in shadows

    clumped like sunken hearts.

    We pass through a green door

    A friend greets us, you say “eyes

    Are the windows on the house” but

    in the house, on the house you couldn’t

    see through green housing my worry,

    the tea evaporated you into the rain.

    Eyes are made for recanting chemical

    trails, rainbows that run from street

    lamps and headlights. You don’t know ears

    are walls, distinguishing heart-felt apologies

    from whispers in the spouts of a fountain.

  7. 1679
    18
    Jul

    (Source: makemestfu)

  8. 2370
    18
    Jul

    (Source: sindreolsen, via skippingst0ne)

  9. 488
    17
    Jul

    "She was the kind of hard-drinking, salty-talking dame that they don’t make anymore…"

  10. 17
    Jul

    Sentinel

    The nightmares show
    two boys standing in the salty Matanzas

    One has his father’s golden
    Almond - shaped eyes
    the other
    Still holds shades of new - born
    baby blue

    One is blowing bubbles through
    a nine-o-tails made of chain links
    his golden eyes furl at the corners,
    wrinkle into snaring, snarls

    the other boy chases
    swings a sickle
    back and forth
    back and forth

    but then a warm breeze passes
    carrying soapy orbs high
    out of harm’s way,

    a wind that whispers
    extinguish all endangerment
    before it’s too late.

avatar_96
300ish days of writing.... For O'Hara!*
Now I am quietly waiting for the catastrophe of my personality to seem beautiful again, and interesting, and modern--O'Hara
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