Sorry, but we can’t seem to can’t link to this one. But if you go to the YARN FB page and you will see two submissions from Cory on the right hand side of the page. They have photography.
Words from Old Photo Album:
graveyards, ribbons, tongues, god, avoid, searching, horrible, hate, pain, end
Daughter, I Miss You
I visit the graveyards in my heart
miles of unused ribbons, clothes that never fit
and birthday candles
Never blown out.
Tongues of shoes crack, brittle from the start.
Mary Jane’s and ballet slippers and spit shined penny loafers
sparkling in the dark recess of my heart.
God will avoid me now because I am searching
for answers that explain the horrible hitch in my breath,
the swelling in my brain, the leaking behind my eyes
with the decaying stench of hate.
I clutch my chest as I drop down
the electric currents of pain shooting up my knees
Waiting, praying, begging
Let me come to the same end
so I may see her once again.
Words from I Could Drown You:
drown, dribbling, rainwater, underneath, wormy, pantry, brass, salt, leaky, drain
Close your Eyes
Count to ten
Drown in the forgotten memories
dribbling past your outstretched fingertips
like the trickle of rainwater against a fogged up
pane of glass.
Underneath the layers of self-loathing and shame
are the wormy contents of your dying heart
Locked on the topmost shelf of an unused pantry
the brass key rusty and forgotten in a drawer full of
old batteries, used twist ties, and spilt salt.
Focus on the cadence of your breath
like the rhythm of the consistent drips
of a leaky faucet
swirling down the drain of life.
Words from Perfect You:
wish, walk, belly, dark, tight, indenting, skin, swollen, eyes, perfect
I wish you weren’t Czech or Chechnyan or
Irish with your drunken walk
that slams your beer-bloated belly
into the dark corner of the bed
that is waiting
for you every night.
I wish you weren’t Australian
Holding that damn koala so tight,
Indenting the palms of your hands
that glide over my cold and lonely skin
Your nostrils swollen from the stink of the rancid koala.
I wish you weren’t German or Canadian or Japanese
Your misshaped eyes downcast with a love
too strong to share.
if you were only American.
Words taken from: the white witch’s heart by Shirley Kuo
pale, listen, restless, empty, moon, touch, stars, dance, circles, know
Her face has become
A pale and restless moon
That listens to the gossip of stars
As their empty chatter
Drones glitter on the evening
Absentmindedly she circles me
Edgeless, hard and yet yielding
I wish there was a way to let her know
None other would compare
We are locked in this endless dance
We will never touch
She cannot see
While I am a slave to the sun
It is only her I look upon for comfort
I’ve knelt in baser conditions,
thigh-deep in wormy garbage piles,
scouring under faucet rain.
Still, desert salt invades
Chapped skin and trigger finger,
the days are scored on
my calendar, scarred deep into paper.
Monday, Sunday, Wednesday, Friday,
all the same and all are dry,
sweltering under the vindictive sun.
My mirage comes in the form of
a glass of water.
Bouquet of peonies.
I tell myself,
I’ve knelt in baser conditions.
I’ve knelt in baser conditions.
Words taken from Cameron MacDonald’s “I Could Drown You”: Peonies, wormy, dinner, dry, faucet, chapped, salt, teeth, Sunday, glass
“She Has Her Whole Life Ahead of Her”
The carpet is circles and stars
and I can’t stop staring at
patterns woven into the fibers.
Restless music plays low,
background noise wrapping
around the mundane dance of
nurses and doctors and receptionists.
Across from me,
a ghostly girl,
spine curving under the weight of
a growing belly.
Microscopic heart and brain,
foot and fist.
The antiseptic smell follows me
to the bowels of the small office building.
There’s touch and feel and numbness.
Wallpaper peeling away at the corner
where the wall meets the ceiling.
Words taken from Shirley Kuo’s “the white witch’s heart”: music, restless, spine, ghostly, touch, fist, peeling, dance, circles, stars
(words from “Old Photo Albums” bubblegum (x2) , tongue, graveyard, faces, tribal, scribbled, fair, flip, cry, ribbons).
tongue on my shoe
walking in the graveyard
the stone cold faces
felt damp and dry.
Why doesn’t nature cry?
The tribal people who came before me
scribbled on the changes
It doesn’t seem fair.
I flip out on the table and almost throw a chair
then they scream,
“It’s not fair.”
(words from “Old Photo Albums” fair, photo, albums, tribal, pain, fit, bubblegum, flip, tongues, I)
I am most fond of the fair photo,
My albums hold nothing like it.
The tribal man’s fit body,
pain of bubblegum and stilettos
walking over a teenage heart.
A hair flip and tongues mashing.
Simple preservation is why I love it.
(” I Could Drown You” jar, wormy, ceramic , basement, garden, moon, blanket, afternoon, rainwater, told, furniture)
In the jar,
the wormy ceramic furniture
wiggled in the basement.
The garden is on the moon,
surrounded by a blanket.
In the afternoon, the rainwater came.
I know it did,
the worms told me.
They tell me secrets.
They travel to the garden and listen.
They sit on the blanket and tell me things.
(from “Old Photo Albums” photo, albums, fair, bubblegum, tongues, pain, tribal, fit, I, flip)
are the best storytellers
they recall tales of long ago
a time spent at a fair,
bubblegum rolling on tongues.
Times of pain, a tragic loss,
a tribal celebration, fit and fun
I flip through, observing.
No Hot Tea
(from “I Could Drown You” furniture, basement, moon, afternoon, wormy, jar, ceramic, rainwater, garden, blanket)
Upon itchy mesh furniture
I see the moon in the afternoon sky
before me is a garden
and the rest be gestured by Vanna White.
Keeping me warm?
A plaid blanket.
The jar I’m drinking from?
The fiery ceramic torments my finger
worms crawling through the rainwater
drenched in dirt?
Everything I see?
Two different views
In one eye I miss colors
In the other; high definition.
I sip scorching tea in the winter afternoon
I spit take and look at the moon.