The Hawk and Paper Airplanes

I'd sooner fold airplanes than hummingbirds, crisp-crease the fuselage, blunt the nose for mass and pulling, right tension the wing for a bit curl and lift, turn up the rudder with a pinch. This I can muster. And though I can muster a glide depending, I've never mastered the birds, never tried. I spied a... Continue Reading →

I Will Not End My Grief

Could there be a requisite span of mourning - some sentence meted out by the dead to be thrown black out into a day without - wistfully walking away? I picked a stone on a path as I thought of you. I picked a stone for my pocket, and there, in my pocket is my... Continue Reading →

Among The Waves Cutting

Loosed beyond the sprung cattail, the sun downs on someone, not by some malice called darkness. A day simply withers its way in its way to a downing set loosed beyond those easterly creeks, fat beyond the headwaters meek, buoyant, strode over and giddy as a waif skipping stone. Yes, the sun is downing on... Continue Reading →

On Marriage and Commitment

And if the pieces fell tonight, would I reassemble, or smash another window, for doors swing neat the parting? Would I grease the pavements slick, glide skated to the next time? No, I stick to the walls like orange tar, loosed by the fumes of us, thin, waxen, inflamed and layered by the smoke of... Continue Reading →

A Harvest Rushed

Russet clouds of harvest dust run low in the gully, settle in the sand pits, settle on a tongue and choke the throats of a damp fall. And there, below the drying towers, propane men wink into ledgers, as the combines churn on - the grains still plump - stalk still green at the soils,... Continue Reading →

A Dream Rendered

I am late for work again, but the tub is full of orange water rising into towels wicking orange water. I fumble in the tub for the drain plug chain and pull. I am late for work again, but the party is on and Jared has a milk moustache. But he's tugging a seven and... Continue Reading →

Birthed Bleak Into Morning

Black marble boy sleeps in a crate, up there, dank beyond the pink blue rooms infertile. Up there, below the ridge beam, pillowed as cake on paper plates, Black marble boy wets the morning. Cracked in the web and cardboard, the sooner suns, hard-tongued like cats to a grooming, divest a storming kestrel, Before which... Continue Reading →

Of Moss and Linens

Last on the withering post - the nail that held the droppings - veils of rain and such things that waltz as silk and linen wood-pinned to wire and such - things that carry load like bridges. We hang as moss from bridges pinned and mired as such - gravity defiled in veils of dropping... Continue Reading →

At the hands of poisoned ivy

That vile stench has risen once more. Fields lain fallow with ash and bones,that last witness buried, now bleach intolerant, take to their long and dormant seed, revive a reviled germination and brute harvest, heedless of the hand, the plow, the urgent need of remembrance grown. In sanguine rain through sag wire, this clod dirt... Continue Reading →

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