Tag Archives: Anton Frost

hallucinations

i. circle vs. zero. ii. my hallucinations are jumbo. where there is none, i sense movement. iii. the air is an endless fringe of skirt. a lost something. i go out yearning. iv. crescent, quarter, half, full, harvest. the silence … Continue reading

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rainy

alone in my mouth a bruised plum of light something that i am hangs on like a drop of water on a thin branch that’s black with rain it reminds me there is a bell crashing like you breathe like … Continue reading

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table window

when she turns away i swap our straws and drink. Anton Frost is a poet living in Grand Haven, Michigan.

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quickly now

i see that everyone is like me, they want to go fast enough to cut puddles in half, to compete with the light for what exists. i want to go so fast that everything disappears. instead i just leave the … Continue reading

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breach

inside my mouth a blue whale dreams. it floats around holding its breath and feeling my teeth with its fins. i feel so far away, it seems to say. i nod, close my eyes slowly like dandelions folding up for … Continue reading

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