Tag Archives: photography

Little River

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There was a little river
With aspirations grand
To be the first to circle the earth
And cut through every land

He, through the narrow canyons, passed
Through woods of thirsty trees
But found all his ambitions lost
When he fell into the sea

-JSMB

Photo by ASMB

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City

 

A COUPLE MILLION PEOPLE

a CITY is a couple million people pretending

not to look at one another

 

but they must steal secret glances once in while

because they are all wearing the same expression,

skillfully mimicked to the last talon of each crow’s foot,

emulations of fiction

and even the freest of them

must feign disinterest

of those millions pressing against him

in apartments above and trains below,

the millions he must pretend not to notice,

who, in turn, pretend not to notice him

in the CITY he joined to escape the vast emptiness

of the natural world

 

A CITY is also a couple million people pretending

that none of this is true

-JSMB 3/4/12

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Room

(If you need something to shout)

I want a room
Where I can write on the walls
Kick in the closets
Until they’re long as halls

Pull in the corners
To origami shapes
Turn seventeen floor boards
To verses ornate

Splinters flying
Falling in tune
Over rhythms random
In my growing room

The shifting foundation
Yields shadowy trees
The light bulbs become hives
Of shimmering bees

The outlets spew ivy
And flowering vines
The clocks call out seasons
Instead of time

And when my marker is empty
Or the walls are all black
With my hearts wild words
Or the quills of my back

Then I will bring out the paint
In cartoonish array
And fling it like Frisbees
Every possible way

What’s left on my fingers
Will go in my hair
Orange and red
On my shoulders bare

Blue and purple on
On my eyelids and face
The skin of a man
Of ambiguous race

I’ll punch through the windows
And let the trees breath
Watch the walls expand
As they gasp and heave

Then grab the window frames
And fling them high
Like pitching glass parachutes
Into the sky

And when the light shines in
On my writing room
I’ll look at my words
To see if they bloom

If they do,
I will leave them to summer and fall;
If they don’t,
I will leave to find some new walls

-Jared St. Martin Brown

For Tiffany Ann Brown

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