People, naturally enough
︎︎︎︎︎ Alex Ross
︎ Sept 12, 2023
Not in the eye-blue river but the look of it, the troping turn of terns falls in the risible air of sun’s swound.
You can heed a mechanics of recollection as moths cloning, doubt the double of an information war for each other from which we pluck our now and thens.
Only in the minimalis of licked metal do we seek the splayed phenomena of thinking, a force of cohesion tense enough to put the phrase where it belongs.
The picture rolls away to actually happen: stars among the tipsy laurels rooted in old money minting evenings.
Why do I love this undercard of the longest month? Placing this place in place de-metered, a bridge to the groan left of reason as thought as wind’s lull as learning sighs. Slurps in the field of error.
Pretty nice, the front porch of holly parchment and half the weight of restful orbit, these jolly walks through the veal beach.
You can heed a mechanics of recollection as moths cloning, doubt the double of an information war for each other from which we pluck our now and thens.
Only in the minimalis of licked metal do we seek the splayed phenomena of thinking, a force of cohesion tense enough to put the phrase where it belongs.
The picture rolls away to actually happen: stars among the tipsy laurels rooted in old money minting evenings.
Why do I love this undercard of the longest month? Placing this place in place de-metered, a bridge to the groan left of reason as thought as wind’s lull as learning sighs. Slurps in the field of error.
Pretty nice, the front porch of holly parchment and half the weight of restful orbit, these jolly walks through the veal beach.
Alex Ross is an art dealer based in Los Angeles. He gave his first and most recent poetry reading at Shakespeare & Co at age 16.