Eleanor Lerman: Fiddlestick
Admit nothing tonight: break everything
that can be broken and banished and
let it be known that the heart
is nothing but an old fiddlestick
lying forgotten in the grass
September 29, 2025 · 8 Comments
Eleanor Lerman: Monday, Tuesday
Aqueous lunar days when the sky was plowed
with stars, days of desire in the dance clubs,
days of luster, days of pearl—when was the last time
you remember our days of paradise? The days
before the demon days of pretty things ran out?
August 25, 2025 · 8 Comments
