Things are not well, as yet
and i don't think they will be for a while, but here's a poem
ENJOY
The fiber art of conversation
(a threat)
give me your hand
sweaty, clammy, stiffened by rigor or overwork,
before you show me your face
tear away the flimsy chemical stain of your words
so that i can smell you
cut through the air with scissors, with sentence fragments
shower me with ellipses and threads of paranthetical you
so that i can find your skin, the particles resting
between one body and the next
i want to hold you in my aura, touching without touch
hug you in a bear hug conversation, feel you
with poorly phrased grammar
give me your dirt encrusted, piss and shit stained love
or nothing at all
because i am done rhyming
with latticeworks of lace, pure as snow
allow me some yardage
or i'll cut through you, a single, spinning, bleached-white thread
Bienvenue
The moon shines down upon an open field, while you walk on the bare, crumbling cement of the path. The trees are welcoming but dark, and the night feels no place to wander.
About Me
- Jaro
- My name is Jeremy, and I create, research, and teach comics and graphic narratives (and their overlap with anthropology, ethnography, media, communication, etc.). I am also a textile artists, and I am often up for doing work freelance/by commission -- ask me and see. And now, a poem: watching stars collide, i breathe a sigh of wonder; life so short, yet so long
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