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1) Primer There are strata of selves, labyrinths of thoughts. There is pure action. The self will insinuate into all things. It is a pond: wrought and confined; fettered by contrivance of beauty, ideas...
Poem It’s like the face of water, the quivering glisten of dusk intimating little yet all, at once. It’s the nape of the breeze, arcane notes of salt and aquatica as churns the...
Poem About Existence 1. Words have fled this world, we’re still here as so music, partially at least. 2. There’s no point really, nihilism’s that rare drug, the people can’t use. 3. Pluto...
Poem About Nature See how the wind straddles the branches, swelling, in fast embrace, then releases, and they rebound, slinging diminishingly ever, to meet again its torso of tided sinews in a tumble...
Poem Up! She pushed. Up! She was still. A dead elephant. So still she felt the babe’s throbbing. They could do nothing. Her children, 5 and 6, fed and washed — she wept. Up!...
Poem It’s fate. There’s nothing to grasp — but worn air of a future lapsing. It’s how we mitigate, how we squelch to years, minutes and the hour. It was the drag of...
It’s falling; a shrill of absence, a dreamy strangling, the days uniform and rationed, where jingles hold the spaces of love and immoderations, and zealotry redeems a country of her past. Gone. Gone, the...
