Tag Archives: Marcus Christensen

Finally Out Of Costume

Sitting in the cool prickle of autumn grass, There is a transformation occurring. The garage opened itself into a car. A Flowering Dogwood is undressing itself, Shrugging its red leaves Into shimmering construction sings. The houses are sad faces Longing … Continue reading

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A Hand Twisting At The Light Switch Like A Doorknob

The moonlight is eating at the leaves as if they were caviar. Some ants swell from an orifice in the gutter. My brother is laying out his rainy-day white lines the nose-bleed effect is never as high as the mark-up. … Continue reading

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Dalton Realizes the Atom

He awoke, head half in bloom to her reading, eyes & nose nuzzled in her breast aloud the pages spoke from her lips a novel of dust love and particles he clung to the words and the world they made … Continue reading

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Driving North

Illuminated by headlights we scythe the dark the parted and frozen crests of night-trellised pine their breath is brittle on the windows sharpen your teeth tonight we are journeymen the highway is unpacking the flesh of the great thereafter Marcus … Continue reading

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