May 2012
9 posts
May 19th
39,854 notes
May 18th
131 notes
When my friend asks for advice
whatshouldwecallme: and I’m just like, “Well…”
May 14th
478 notes
May 13th
56,588 notes
May 13th
28,121 notes
May 9th
945 notes
May 6th
676 notes
May 6th
11,872 notes
May 6th
7,581 notes
April 2012
6 posts
Apr 25th
62 notes
WatchWatch
floralnymph: hangin out so hard chillwavefrog.wmv
Apr 25th
7,682 notes
Apr 24th
51,950 notes
Apr 14th
10,752 notes
Apr 13th
75,103 notes
Apr 2nd
1,315 notes
March 2012
3 posts
Mar 23rd
25,716 notes
Mar 20th
88 notes
“We are the girls with anxiety disorders, filled appointment books, five-year...”
– Courtney Martin (via holdme-closer-tiny-dancer)
Mar 7th
3,158 notes
February 2012
7 posts
Feb 27th
25,916 notes
Feb 25th
3 notes
Feb 15th
53 notes
Feb 12th
60,849 notes
Feb 12th
8,853 notes
Feb 5th
18,147 notes
Feb 3rd
200 notes
January 2012
5 posts
Jan 28th
194,133 notes
Jan 15th
100,452 notes
Jan 15th
85,494 notes
Jan 15th
60,923 notes
Jan 6th
11,312 notes
December 2011
20 posts
Dec 26th
67,835 notes
Dec 25th
330 notes
3 tags
Sleep Cycle by Dean Young
We cannot push ourselves away from this quiet, even in our sprees of inattention, the departing passengers    stubbing out their smokes, arrivees in tears,    lots of cellophane, the rumpus over parking. Wind scrapes leaves across the road,    first flashes of snow, it is dark then it’s really dark. Forgive me for not writing for so long, I’ve been right beside you, one of the vaguer divinities...
Dec 21st
29 notes
Dec 16th
16,860 notes
Dec 13th
9,512 notes
4 tags
Dec 11th
3,563 notes
Dec 11th
30 notes
4 tags
I Go Back to May 1937 -- Sharon Olds
I see them standing at the formal gates of their colleges, I see my father strolling out under the ochre sandstone arch, the    red tiles glinting like bent plates of blood behind his head, I see my mother with a few light books at her hip standing at the pillar made of tiny bricks, the wrought-iron gate still open behind her, its sword-tips aglow in the May air, they are about to graduate, they...
Dec 11th
Dec 11th
132 notes
1 tag
Dec 11th
457 notes
Dec 10th
197 notes
Dec 9th
3 notes
4 tags
Why Poetry Cannot Be Skimmed BY JESSICA JOPP
In response to a student who told me he just “skims” the poetry right before class The barn was in the Netherlands, in a field where fierce night wind caught the straw as if to fuse the winter stars to their coldness. A farmer, woken by the sound, knowing his animals would be agitated, walked to the barn and by lantern brushed the tails of his horses. In calming them he gathered many long,...
Dec 7th
8 notes
Dec 6th
15,079 notes
Dec 6th
8 notes
Dec 6th
8,825 notes
3 tags
Song in my heart by Diane Seuss (click for correct...
If there’s pee on the seat it’s my pee, battery’s dead I killed it, canary at the bottom of the cage I bury it, like God tromping the sky in his undershirt carrying his brass spittoon, raging and sobbing in his Hush Puppy house slippers with the backs broke down, no Mrs. God to make him reasonable as he gets out the straight razor to slice the hair off his...
Dec 6th
Dec 5th
19 notes
Dec 5th
9 notes
Dec 5th
194 notes