seems as unlikely as holding an echo firmly under my tongue. The sky,Read More
he has a pocket watch and a basket of reeds. A factory
here eats starlight and shits fine blocks of steel. Outside,
drinking her milk, eating deep cake where the center piece is entirely frosting. Or glide throughRead More
and I have to look hard to see that the petals
are made of the most precisely sliced sections of cake.
stepped on it, a man
spit tobacco on it,
with no stop
just the cross ings
we are looped in it, living in it like the weatherRead More
in last night’s storm, knocking at my dream doorRead More
A hickory sadness she cannot teach,
walking downtown in winter, layers I must keep. I am
fear of heights, Nebraska sky, coffee, wind. I believe her,
and I believe Duane rode into the sea on the back of his horse.
a child, cargo strapped to her mother’s back, takes the blackRead More
like glass above the place
where mouths hurry open.
who watches everything and judges me.Read More
a few left turns from your childhood
home. You close the book again. He becomes
and blood. The streets covered in urine and blood, anyway.Read More
trawling your halted mind for a thing
to say. It was then that I startled myself
and the sunken mark of your thumb,
an unnerving acceptance.
a place & its own muscles moving mineRead More
Peel your fear like a fruit,
and the lemon-eyed monkeys will come.
lay the images out on his desk like stonesRead More