Mindblown: a blog about philosophy.

  Every other day, my therapist gathers fallen branches from outside her office. She arranges them haphazardly, like a reminder, placing them in a glass vase next to the open tissue box. It’s a small habit I find endearing. Once, I asked why there were never flowers in her arrangements. Their lives were already brief…

  I’m through with memory and everything that was before. each day,   I am more permanently in the speckled   light of the afternoon. the obscurant dust swarms with moths. the ink-black   beetles crawl up the sink drain and settle   on the porcelain to lick rust. liar, liar— how could you believe…

  childish mountain mountain of children meaning,   a river rich vein suburb turning the city inside out light foreshadows   black fur,   from which children decipher before language from what won’t –  even sound becomes   heavy as i learn you    (repetitive  motion)     as i know us, coiled being concentrically living…

  All those opposed to raising your right hand should raise your left hand. One spider-man is asking where’s the nearest phone booth. Neither plummeter nor levitator be. You’d wonder where the ultraviolet went when you bathe in infrared. If what the masses had were not contagious you’d ignore it. Of the algorithm’s biases you’d…

  It was on the train when I saw the watercolor ducks. They were there when we surfaced in the embrasure, somehow half the bridges of my life folding into deflection. I started taking the hydrologic cycle seriously after Monica showed me envelopes she made from scrapped paintings. The boundaries between water and color are…

After Cindy Sherman   Barefoot outside 508, Cindy has locked herself out of her own place, and for what? To retrieve the mail: took the elevator with all of its rattle and mildew notes down to the lobby late at night just to find there were no letters, again. She could have stayed under the…

Come with Me   to the bower   and sit in the dark green swing      we can   read each other’s (not palms but)   recipes   bus time tables repair manuals     we can sing about balaclavas   and top   hats we can tell      tall tales   once I found   a mouse living in    my dresser   the drawer  was  tricked…

  None of it matters, the complete genome sequence. Resinous, the thick yellow like a polluted sky, the tree reaching over and bearing its needles. Like a playhouse of balls, thick and enough to swim through. The imitation of water. But yellow as some bogs or the dull stripes of a spider as it clings…

  near the university sanctioned horse   festival they learn how to roam on   retractable leashes how to pirouette mobius   strips in tomorrow’s torn up turf these   no ordinary specimens not from fetus   jars packed hundred fold into roaring engines   the piebalds graze and you can’t know instant coloration  …

  Monty ignored the cavity on her lower third molar for as long as she could—she was successful for a little while, coming up with myriad ways to distract herself from the occasional jaw-clenching pulsating or toe-tingling aching—until the cavity started to sing. Even then, Monty tried to cover the cavity up, humming over the…