whole < hole by Brynn Dizackphotobooth whore, she's the real thing insinuating stopsigns & apartment shopping . skipping class & missing appointments;; we fold and unfold into each other [in highly decorated envelopes] & i'm floating: feeling like my life is an endless bunch of travel-lines between arlington, kenmore, and harvard / the coffeepot garble wakes us at seven & silver headphones clipped onto stiff ears/godiwishyouwerehere scarf / & then she's in the movies / the soundtrack resilient and sturdy behind every footstep / charcoal fingernails;; listen baby you can hear the ocean in an empty water bottle - you can hear her screaming under charcoal skies & fat raindrops plunk down on hats we / rush in rush out rush under into subway tunnels like the humid air hustles us out into the cold / i'm making books / no - i'm making excuses / binding together pages with pictures of shower after shower without you to slipslide against / hair growing longer and longer & songs & every lyric imagineable - napkins stuck to condensated glasses; cold and slippery like wet chucks on bricks she is scraping her ragged fingernails across the uneven concrete & looking in through all the windows and unlocking the front door & running up the maze's stairs & falling to the floor && ripping off her coat / dying of heat / but the rain and the rain and the rain and oh, jesus...
11/12/2003 Author's Note: not the best but / this is what rain does / blurry / what can you do / what can you do / the holes are becoming greater-than the whole itself / please hold me
Posted on 11/12/2003 Copyright © 2024 Brynn Dizack
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