by mickharris

shit imprints

it leaves the body and carves a space where you remember it

feel it for hours and days after

sometimes it’s the only way i feel myself as a container for anything, by the expulsion of something.

life lived as a negative

don’t know what you’ve got til its gone.

chewingwormwood and i are writing a poem thing together.  i am thrilled beyond belief because she is fucking amazingly talented.  i went to grad school with her and her reading rocked my core.  you should check out her blog:

i have a chapbook i need to edit.