Posts
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Sweet/Sour
In a found place, a sheltered place, a jealous place, I eat my heart.
It tastes like fresh strawberries and rotten secrets. -
Close
A warm morning,
touch the corpse.
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A Photograph, a Stranger's Face
A stranger's face, a mild wonder of afternoon light.
the treadmill rolls on, hot cement, jogging sweats,
I’ll see you again in my memories of tomorrow, my dreams, -
Our Stories
I drink from cupped hands, fresh water, fresh blood, fresh weeping. There is iron in our skin, solder. You play a winter melody like it’s a hearth fire. Hungry, hungry, whole, watching our souls ripple outwards. We are our stories.
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Spring Break: a Reflection on Vacations
God, it’s finally spring. I can feel my face burning as I read out on the patio this morning. I wish that spring meant something other than an unfounded, unsubstantiated brightness that threatens oblivion and a terrible headache. -
Semiotics/ Semantics
We, big-brained humans, distill the sensual into semiotics.
But cracked open, cracked up, stopped at the stop sign,
I’m made aware of the prickly hairs growing out of my skin,
of the virulent grass pushing through the cement.
Loves
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"What dwells in the between?"
I have walked over the bridge
And seen the river that flows,
I have walked through the blue flags
And seen only shadows of frost.
The towering no longer stoop
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drumming thunder
I drum
beating the small snare with my power
I may be small
but I am the loudest in the band
the base is thunder crashing
the snare is the rain slamming to the earth
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Coffee Shop Observations
A young woman sits in a coffee shop in London, England, with her back straight, her head pointed forward, and her eyes wandering into the rainbow mists of Wonderland.
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Thoughts on a Sunset
It’s moments like these I wish would never end.
The sky would never fade into the dark.
The sea would never storm.
The news would never catastrophize,
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Roads & Rails
Sometimes,
they think the forests must have been constructed,
around the railroad.
That the tracks were built up from Earth long ago,
