the writings of blake ellington larson

Month: July, 2016

I am faded paper

limestone and yellow’d I am the sun and the strawberry moon and I collect daisies on the daydream walks I take from memory makes me hungry for Spring’s late night butterfly’s and I am nothing paper like steaming coffee or tea or perhaps there is no daydream and it’s always winter makes me fonder for the subtle things like mint and I have to wash my hands again

my new poem is not the song of the river

bloom and cotton

your final burden

exit:  stage left

enter:  curtain

bloom and cotton

your final curtain

exit:  stage left

enter:  burden

my butterflies are quiet

it’s not the wind

wakes ’em up

in the morning

my first thought is anxious

it collides with the pages in my cloud memory like books and cobwebs and candles and the smell of old wood and everything up close looks like words I’m making up in the moment and there’s no end to the wind

music is memory

let it sink in

I am a cloud of indecision

my antlers and my spirit animal dreams like cotton spread out abounding my mattress in kitty whisper nap time for years the alarm has been going off and we’re just about daybreak and the napkins aren’t enough this wind is treachery I’m glad we’re set studied on nervous noise and not that damned clicking from the window it is drowning the smell of old europe and I’m still not used to it damn the bridges and the locked doors and why am I on this ratchety train it smells like newspapers and sweat and that pigeon keeps staring at me and the clutter in the mildew like dew in the mornings is but fog on my windshield keeps catching up with me