Blog | The Incandescent | Page 8 of 24

how hard could it be to say goodbye?

hello, again to marigold-scented mornings and mirror-hazy dreams where ten years later leaves no crumbs to grow stale in half-ajar...

in sickness and in health, i do, i do

in sickness and in health, i do, i do it’s not that i don’t love you. it’s the sound of the gun cracking and echoing into the night as my...

A Swiftly Tilting Ode

From a Schizophrenic Man, to the Hyena Holding Him Hostage in His Apartment You laughing bastard dark snout sickle grin make the shadows...

Harping on Seals

Harp seals are on the rise; yes, those bulging, button-eyed slick-backed bobbing girls that pout like a glacier when the magnetic field...

A Ghazal on Turtle Ships

There is nothing romantic about calluses, even if they are on a violinist’s fingers around her bow. Let me play you a Concerto in G Minor...

Eighteen in the Time of Entropy

I think I expected to open, like some clam, perhaps, or a rusted padlock, or the mouth of a stirring lion. The way I imagined it, I'd...

Selenite

I am the deep breath, traveling from your left palm, threading through your throat and third eye. I feel the impediments, the smothered...

Coconut Oil

I am from the dainty blue bottle Of coconut oil on the shelf. The liquid reeked of enough preservatives to have a memory Last a century....

Yesterday: An Island

1941—the year of the metal snake. what the hell is that? you ask to snappy prayers under milk skies, but can you blame us? girls who play...