A journal of narrative writing.
O, Addiction!

O the world O found child O the days and nights these laments are all for you O empty noon O nothing comes from this these are the exercises this be the beginning this be bricks and mortar and those joints the clef whereon we hang our notes these be the scales O oriole on the sill these be the reasons and we name them these be the flowers these the small oooos how after can I be better O abandoned O warehouse O broken windows and wind O breath across the bottle’s mouth O you answerer of questions unasked they say O so big they swallow us sing the wind the bullet-holed windows the tracks between the toes O the soft elbow’s fold under the arms O the under the tongue tracks O the hole in the rust yard the whole sky they lift they train O they bird by the vacancy panes O blow across the hole in Jesus’ palm Oooooooo be the open window O well the bottom of the sea is empty they say sing they say be the gulls they say O he’ll come tomorrow Oh well please sing please