Concatenation

There are big words forbig ideas — but,there are small wordsfor everything else,like face, like eye, like lip.Like quiver and tear,there are small sounds,both long and short-waved, pronouncementsinto the flesh of things,like shrug and turnedaway. There is goneand pang and thunder,not fully summedin squandering, andhalf-lived in regret,as if chained was littlemore than an entry,some fiscal... Continue Reading →

Because First I Found Your Eyes

If I had taken your handbefore finding your eyes;if I had traced the chippedrounds of your nails,and slid there - downto the calloused pads;if I had awakened a papercut, austere in the burdensof your fingers, would youhave recoiled, thought me -Fresh, unbounded, soiled? I would assumethat if I had mappedthe circuit of your toilsbefore meeting... Continue Reading →

The Dishes My Love

What was it, that chocolate crustscorched in the pot from yesternight,leaning, off-burner, with the danglingspoon, wooden and stained? Best give it a soak, my love,that tomorrow we may findits nature framed tight in stainless,framed tight in the soap bubblesthat have raced and clingto the round squat walls. Perhaps we may find, tomorrow,among the gray pepper-flecked... Continue Reading →

Small Fishes

I saw a picture of you today,that crow's foot smile, your eyesblue behind wisps of bang,arm around his shoulder,same old still,and I felt nothing. But then again,I was small fish to fry,and you laughed and said no,you are a whale and went awaythat Tiananmen spring. And there was fear in your voice,strung out, evacuated, long... Continue Reading →

Angle of Incidence

What can I say?I was a bad sunrise,quick scudded to cloudand withholding. Look at it this way,it was a great dayfor pictures,unshadowed,no hotspotsto burn awayin a dance. We were a functionreally, a shallowangle of incidence,a glancing blow,mathematic,not prismatic,no split beam,just one garishmorning thing, and a slowovercasttrundleto a setting. Image: Ryoji Iwata on Unsplash

Means Put Away

S'always gonna be there, that stain like a slitherin' dog done nabbed a cookie. Let's call it spilt milk, if we must, but fuck that was a rabbit punch. Let's keep in it the hutch with all the chipped bowls and riddled towels. I know. But forgive don't mean forgot, just means put away with... Continue Reading →

Of Dead Birds and Tongues

If I knew anything, like a dog's tail wags, like an iced wire sags, I would know a hard mouth stings. But there in the blaze of it, in that thick tongued moment, when your eyes glazed on a word, a dry twig snapped beneath a bird. And what fell there, what broke there, now... Continue Reading →

She In The Glass

She was crushed ice,great for chewing,bad for teeth. She found me thirsty and pica,down in the taps,bounced and fanged. And there she was, tall in the glass,clear in her gaps but cloudedwith lime in the hard stuff. Yea, she yielded to my jaw,ground her by the mouthful,but my throat only dried, dried that only a... Continue Reading →

She Drew Me Thin

I am the stickman you drew as a kid, the one you flipbooked on the corners of every Christmas catalogue that hogged your time and pencil. Oh how smooth you drew me - and thin. And I remember when you gave me a bike, rolled me right off the page, right there at the hardwares... Continue Reading →

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