I will also say that I spend a good deal of time looking at art and, like a lot of 13 year old girls, I have a Tumblr. And that does function as a visual scrapbook, predominantly of visual art works I’m thinking about or have come across in reading, in person, or in digital archives.
Pierre Reverdy / Translated from the French by Dan Bellm
A little mark shines between your fluttering eyelids. The room is empty, and the shutters come open in the dust. It must be the day or some memory that brings tears to your eyes. The landscape of the wall—the horizon behind—your disordered memory—and the sky nearer. There are trees and clouds, protruding heads, and hands hurt by the light. Then a curtain falls and shrouds all these shapes in darkness.
Two more poems at A Public Space.