Monthly Archives: January 2011

A witch’s hand with a million fingers, Each with a million joints, A million accusations Accusing me Accusing you, Accuses all. Everything. But between her rhytidome fingers The soft embrace of red, yellow and cream Calls out forgiveness, Offering no … Continue reading →

This is an email I sent to the people in my poetry class about the title of a poem by Wallace Stevens that we mentioned in class today. If you want to read it, you can find it here: Wikipedia. … Continue reading →

Okay, well this will just be a sort of quick little stream-of-consciousness sort of blog about my goings on, probably interesting only if you’re family or just not a very motivated stalker. Anyone, including stalkers, is invited to read on, … Continue reading →

I spent an hour today letting the television tell me how to think. Save print media. Read books, read poems, read newspapers, read opinions that admit they’re opinions, call out bullshit, don’t take anyone’s word for anything. When you let … Continue reading →

The pages ruffle The springs creak A silent rustle After paragraphs peak Hip and foot shuffle Roll over, cool cheek. Stop, pause, sigh Listen to rain’s patter Wonder how, wonder why Does it matter, Or is it all just my … Continue reading →

“He made all our vocabularies bigger” “How did he still have so much hair?” “He sure was a rich bastard. Spent every penny, though.” “So, [insert female name here] is single now, huh?” “I read his book once.” “He smelled … Continue reading →

What is the idea of time But an attempt to immortalize ourselves? By creating it we give ourselves a new goal, (a reason to live) To live forever But we know we can’t So we build, so we create We … Continue reading →

Conquer the craving With Deli-Mex Taquitos Are these all haiku? Today it was cloudy And the heater is broken I’m fucking freezing Stop dead, stare and swoon The gleam that paralyzes Never leaves me alone   Copyright 2011 Andrew Whiting

If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is A warm mug on a cold morning, A streak of sunlight across my keyboard Melting the stiffness of sleep from my fingers, Cloudlets and Keats, dancing together in the sky. Still, … Continue reading →

There are a few things that make writing worth it. My favorite is when I read something I’ve written and find myself incredulous that it’s mine. The next, and much more flattering thing is when someone tells me he’s decided … Continue reading →