“The hunter sinks his arrows into the trees and then paints the targets around them. The trees imagine they are deer. The deer imagine they are safe. The arrows: they have no imagination.” — Richard Siken Copy Share Image
“Personally, I’m a mess of conflicting impulses—I’m independent and greedy and I also want to belong and share and be a part of the… — Richard Siken Copy Share Image
Here I am in a rabbit run, here I am in a valley of pine, waiting for you to find me. I could pretend… — Richard Siken Copy Share Image
“We're shooting the scene where I swallow your heart and you make me spit it up again. I swallow your heart and it crawls… — Richard Siken Copy Share Image
“Here we are, at the place where I get to beg for it. Where I get to say ‘Please, for just one night, will… — Richard Siken Copy Share Image
“The stranger says there are no more couches and he will have to sleep in your bed. You try to warn him, you tell… — Richard Siken Copy Share Image
“I looked at all the trees and didn’t know what to do. A box made out of leaves. What else was in the woods?… — Richard Siken Copy Share Image
Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us. These, our bodies, possessed by light. Tell me we'll never get used to… — Richard Siken Copy Share Image
“It’s not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere, it’s more like a song on a policeman’s radio, how we rolled… — Richard Siken Copy Share Image
Knot the tie and go to work, unknot the tie and go to sleep. I sleep. I dream. I wake. I sing. I get… — Richard Siken Copy Share Image
