(Instinctively, just now, I went to read the poem I haven't written to you yet. It looks like you’ll be doing this with me.
By Ashe Lawson6 months ago in Poets
First, you must believe that you are real. Maybe you do it by feeding yourself, Taking a bath, walking your dog, Or fucking your lover with abandon.
I saw a bear today. Not directly. Refracted. Through the beveled edge Of a train window. — I looked down for my camera.
Play Pianos Pianoing! I giggle sternly, Poking at the robot in my hand. I need my pianos and I need to slip away. - No more robots for today. The light
I’ve been talking wedding plans On a melting planet. Your place or mine? I’m not the first in my family to be mentally ill.
We can’t let the robots write all the poems. What was I saying just one minute ago? — Oh, yes. I don’t want reincarnation to be real
I’ve thought about writing. I’ve read books about writing. I’ve mused about writing, Even pontificated about writing. I’ve known about writing,
We call upon the earth, the air, The rain, and fire bright. We call upon the birds, the bees, The stones, the candle light.
By Ashe Lawson6 months ago in Fiction