@fizzyren "Didn't expect there would be abortionists on ao3" babygirl there is EVERYONE on ao3 and if this is what freaks you out you need to get a LOT better at reading tags and filtering by them before your first dead dove actually literally kills you
CLOUD FACTORY
Zebras have stripes, leopards have parties. Bobcats eat ham sandwiches and crème brûlée. A bird will sit on your finger and tell you a story. A dog will sleep at your feet all night and not overthink it. The dog is chasing squirrels in the backyard of a dream. I was a beautiful day, I was yellow next to pink. I was a brush fire, a telephone. I was, I am. The mayor gave me a sash and a gift certificate for a complimentary dinner. He was very proud. It was a cakewalk. I took the long road to thicken the gravy. I pushed the words around. I pushed them hard. I did it blind, with the pictures in my head, and the technicians in the cloud factory filled the sky: cumulous, cirrus, cumulonimbus. They made some shapes so we could guess. We looked at them. I did. Meaning comes from somewhere. You could feel the figs swelling in the fig trees all afternoon. Imagination—image is the coal that fuels its little engines. Shovel coal. Call it love, call it a day’s work. Keep the furnace burning in the factory. The puff puff puff of possibility. You don’t need to know someone to be their lover, you don’t need to know anything. To get over Ben, I thought about Steve. To get over Steve, I thought about Paul. I went swimming in a blue rectangle. It wasn’t actually swimming but I called it swimming. Around the pool: A thousand grasshoppers. Strawberry cake: If only I had the room. The planes land and sometimes there is luggage, so here’s a little lamb for you. Maybe it’s a cow. And a tree in the background and a bat in the tree like a blot or a stain or a gathering storm. I know, I’m doing it wrong—meow, meow, meow. Big words and pig fat, très estúpido—but then, what do you know, the invisible table reappears. Go ahead and finish the thought. Say the dream was real and the wall imaginary. Fill the sky with clouds. A thought came up to the window and surprised me. And that was that. Nothing but fingerprints on glass. Don’t blame me. I didn’t invent the world, I’m just looking at it.
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I was asked "What poem would you give to somebody who says they don’t understand poetry?" and I said "This one." I wouldn’t give them a simple one and say "Don’t be afraid." I would give them the most incomprehensible and dense poem I have. Poetry isn’t a puzzle, it’s an experience. This poem delights in language and plays with meaning and expectations. There’s nothing to figure out. And it’s fun. I like it. Most of my poems are sad.
@cassbeewrites https://t.co/8YTJ6Ru6aN
Here's the PWHL playlist "PWHL 101," very concise introductions to the league, hockey in general, etc. I've been a hockey fan for my entire life and still found them interesting and learned some things!
@cassbeewrites Check out the PWHL! They stream on YouTube live for free, commentators explain what's happening, the Jocks and Jills podcast talks about games after for more details on the personal side, and also the league is only three years old so there's not a ton of drama to catch up on.
@timewarpoets Kevin Wilson is amazing honestly! You should check out his short story collection Tunneling To The Center Of The Earth. I'm so fascinated by his writing style.
@eddiediazbbl You joke but I 100% unironically did this with fanfiction/net links in middle school with different folders for each fandom
It was me and my PJO/HP crossover fics against the world