Francis Myerick
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homeA Poem by Francis Myerickthe dream version of dad's girlfriend doesn't sound so bizarre as the real one. i mean, the sobby noises that come out of his speaker phone ar.. |
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dianethA Poem by Francis Myericktoday's my birthday. |
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when you win the sweepstakesA Poem by Francis Myerick(new years) things we'll let go of: we burned these slips of paper in a metal casserole dish celine, fear of rats. "time to go away.. |
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why i can\'t write anymoreA Poem by Francis Myericki feel smushed. remember the way you'd swing on your stomach? as a kid? for the up-right, spaceman lift? all your weight released, suspended, th.. |
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boy, blueA Poem by Francis Myerickas a child i owned a plastic projection machine that worked with the slides of those red viewfinders. my favorite part of church was the our father b.. |
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to james gladney, all of youA Poem by Francis Myerickthere are things i keep quiet in post-coital sleepy: your passing not-looks to stop hearts "he was so dreamy..." the lying awake won.. |
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it\'s undecided yet. the title i mean.A Poem by Francis Myerickmore fantasies of sleeping in your clean house. |
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PlantingA Poem by Francis Myericki use words like psychedelic and I drink out of a Sigg bottle. does that make me a hippy? |
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The HouseA Poem by Francis Myerickthey say jesu, but it was really you to think back on lightbulbs and shards that tore through had stored one more that even your hat couldn't.. |
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