Blog · corpus.blog/blogs/sieveandsand.com/posts
sieveandsand.com
sieveandsand.com
2011
21 May 2011
20 May 2011
18 May 2011
18 May 2011
18 May 2011
13 May 2011
13 May 2011
12 May 2011
11 May 2011
7 May 2011
5 May 2011
1 May 2011
1 May 2011
28 Apr 2011
28 Apr 2011
26 Apr 2011
26 Apr 2011
times like the present (a proof that all those people who told you there were none are full of spit)original ↗
25 Apr 2011
25 Apr 2011
23 Apr 2011
23 Apr 2011
22 Apr 2011
22 Apr 2011
21 Apr 2011
an ode, for what was done well, but could have been (in retrospect) done better. after all, a whole lawn of grey is eclipsed by the lawn with my ROGER spelled across it in all grey-dead caps. but that’s why there is always tomorrow.original ↗
21 Apr 2011
20 Apr 2011
19 Apr 2011
19 Apr 2011
19 Apr 2011
18 Apr 2011
18 Apr 2011
18 Apr 2011
16 Apr 2011
15 Apr 2011
14 Apr 2011
12 Apr 2011
12 Apr 2011
11 Apr 2011
8 Apr 2011
7 Apr 2011
6 Apr 2011
5 Apr 2011
5 Apr 2011
4 Apr 2011
2 Apr 2011
2 Apr 2011
1 Apr 2011
31 Mar 2011
30 Mar 2011
29 Mar 2011
men who are good at describing themselves whose moralities border so closely the line of acceptability that they are interestingoriginal ↗
28 Mar 2011
28 Mar 2011
It is the way of things that some-times luck is with us, sometimes with someone else, and sometimes out to lunchoriginal ↗
26 Mar 2011
26 Mar 2011
26 Mar 2011
24 Mar 2011
4 jacknifed freight trucks and a collection of cars crumpled and tossed to the side of the highway like discarded pages torn from a spiral notebook.original ↗
24 Mar 2011
23 Mar 2011
18 Mar 2011
16 Mar 2011
15 Mar 2011
14 Mar 2011
Looking back I think a lot of flaws had been conceded, because after all you can’t hold everyone to the same standard. I think we all really should have seen this whole thing comming.original ↗
14 Mar 2011
13 Mar 2011
10 Mar 2011
9 Mar 2011
8 Mar 2011
8 Mar 2011
8 Mar 2011
7 Mar 2011
7 Mar 2011
i imagine it, but don’t do it. my girls keep me here. my job. my love of this life and these people and this city. my desire to write one more poem with a title much to long to be read by the populous. my fear of ever growing out of obscurity into a lime-light i know my pale-skin cannot accept. i stay not because the couch is much softer, but because i’ve read “the road” by kerouac and i remember how that crap ends (which is to say, better than the rest of the book…. the last 10 pages were the ooriginal ↗
6 Mar 2011
5 Mar 2011
4 Mar 2011
4 Mar 2011