"I’m going to kill the president.
I promise. I surrender. I’m sorry.
I’m gay. I’m pregnant. I’m dying.
I’m not your father. You’re fired.
Fire. I forgot your birthday.
You will have to lose the leg.
She was asking for it.
It ran right under the car.
It looked like a gun. It’s contagious.
She’s with God now.
Help me. I don’t have a problem.
I’ve swallowed a bottle of aspirin.
I’m a doctor. I’m leaving you.
I love you. Fuck you. I’ll change."
— Ben Lerner, The Lichtenberg Figures (via muumuuhouse)
(Source: disportment, via muumuuhouse)
"I saw the destruction of Dresden. I saw the city before and then came out of an air-raid shelter and saw it afterward, and certainly one response was laughter. God knows, that’s the soul seeking some relief."
(hey kids, real humor is dark)
"There’s something really satisfying about holding a piece of art someone’s made out of another piece of art someone else made by writing it."
CL Bledsoe talks about Ink Press Productions and calls Amanda and Tracy “peachy keen folks.” Read the full write-up, including reviews of 5 drawings of the maryland sky and Sorry I Wrote So Many Sad Poems Today, at his blog, Murder Your Darlings, here. (via inkpressproductions)
"He said my eyes were like a swimming pool. & he fell in.
Just kidding. He pushed me in.
It was summer. The dead of summer."
— four poems by Marisa Crawford @ Fanzine