(two reblogs, I know, but this-)
The Naked City
dir. Jules Dassin, 1948
Saturday
-Syncrodogs
New/in-development/thinking that Art is the Overflow.
(a dream)
&the wolves, flitting
nightlidded in shadow fur
move from across a cement
canyon
-
the wolves worm their
faces through unmended
splits in the fence, all teeth peering
diamondfaced from a heaving
mineshaft, set in black gummed
swells each puckered around
her inset egg gleaming
-
the wolves snap at dark
birds, portent bearers who
dive from reach swimming
in the marigold night
-
(So what is perhaps more interesting than talking about what we thought of the book is what we end up picking up on to remember about it in the first place)
Pierre Bayard
(through http://tumblr.austinkleon.com/)
| Me: | "What is your favorite holiday?" |
|---|---|
| Mike (age 9): | "Other people's birthdays." |
Making stars
the landscape of her
shoulders and warm
resignation, above
brown brick veins and
pavement, absorbing I
unfurl within this
eggshell dome, robin
blue, rising from its
four non-corners.
am fallen leaves left
in the sun; the road
home is quiet and
the closing door is
practice. I am sisters
with your footprints
but, my echo erodes
disposable
