mosses
It's sort of like listening to moss and sandpaper argue.
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michael harper wants to be your friend
• //about
• //writing
• //photos
michael harper wants to be your friend
Shot for Kinfolk Magazine Vol. 7
This is my face the side of my head and my curly top in Kinfolk, shot by Parker
A comma splice walks into a bar, it has a drink and then leaves.
A question mark walks into a bar?
Two quotation marks “Walk into” a bar.
A gerund and an infinitive walk into a bar, drinking to drink.
The bar was walked into by a passive voice.
Three intransitive verbs walk into a bar. They sit. They drink. They leave.
(via writersrelief)
Making the ashtray jealous
Smoking less like
she is more relaxing
I could breathe her in on my ten
hold her between two fingers
let her smolder a moment
on a celibate heart
YESTERPLAY
Late last night ditched itself on my fingertips
her dawn gently furrowed in my beard
hidden in the hour I was late to work
Black baptism gown
You were a cum stain on my favourite black jeans, the matching puddle a shadow on a couch I sold to an overweight couple from a suburb called Beaverton. They had an eleven-year-old son who really liked the couch, and I felt like he could smell the leftover sex as he bounced on the damp cushions, pleading its purchase.
I sold that shame for forty bucks and helped pack it into a minivan, but I wore those jeans all summer, to tatters, like the holes in the pockets were mocking and mimicking me both at once, because I couldn’t hold anything in.
The first things that went were the back pockets. My keys kept poking out and I kept dropping my wallet when I bent over. That saying about “a hole in your pocket,” the one about money – was pretty literal.
On the other hand, all my money was alchemized to booze; I was baptized in it all summer long, and those jeans were my baptism gown.
