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 […]

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 […]

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 […]

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 […]

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 […]

The Long Familiar

You left hair in the tub, toothpaste splatter on the mirror, a wadded towel on the rod, wet footprints on the floorboards marking a stumble to the kitchen where you guzzled milk from the carton, there with the door open, cold spilling out like flumes to your feet – and I loved it. A sudden […]