i love these beautiful people.
When I first looked back at the Earth, standing on the Moon, I cried.
describing his time on the lunar surface during the Apollo 14 mission in 1971 (via shychemist
Birthday has been quite successful thus far.
check out my vagina exit celebration flowers.
LOOK, LOOK HOW LONG I’VE DONE EXISTENCE. IT IS A MIRACLE. LOOK, LOOK AT WHAT I HAVE GIVEN UP TO BE HERE. I AM THAT PICTURE OF A FIELD YOU SENT ME. I AM A BOUQUET OF GLASS VASES. I AM THE LIGHT COLLECTIVE OF THE GALAXY. I AM YOUR EVE. I AM NOT ANYTHING I AM NOT SUPPOSED TO BE. I AM GOOD AND I AM NECESSARY. TAKE ME. OR LEAVE ME FOR SOMEONE WHOSE HANDS DO NOT LEAK WHEN THEY CUP THESE WATERS.
The violet sea longs for the birth of gods,
for to be born here is an unspeakable feast,
a drumroll of commanding retinues and tritons.
Under the night, somewhere
between the white that is nothing so much as
blue, and the black that is, finally; nothing,
I am the man neither of you remembers.
Shielding, in the half-dark,
the blue eyes I sometimes forget
I don’t have. Pulling my own stoop-
shouldered kind of blues across paper.
Apparently misinformed about the rumored
stuff of dreams: everywhere I inquired,
I was told look for blue.
Carl Philips, closing strophe to “Blue,” Blood (University Press of New England, 1992)