Bookavore

voracious reader with a certain verbal attitude

135 notes &

W. W. Norton: What the Living Do

wwnorton:

Johnny, the kitchen sink has been clogged for days, some utensil probably fell down there.
And the Drano won’t work but smells dangerous, and the crusty dishes have piled up

waiting for the plumber I still haven’t called. This is the everyday we spoke of.
It’s winter again: the sky’s a deep,…

Ahhhhhhhhh.

Filed under poetry

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    well, fuck
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    What poetry does.
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    Best poem
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