The Wilderness Fed

In this winter called Leviathan,gorged be the meddles of menlurched there, rustbound in iceand enzyme. And all that arcs over, whetherthe crust limbed trees, or the whitetresses of sleet pinged on our heads,mocks like a maul. Roused and thus cursed by the makersof beasts and things craving anvilsand the nails of undoing, undoing,undoing us all. […]

23.5 Degrees

It is not inconceivable some smeared and blind thing, like hail or perhaps some top spun cue ball, maybe some blunt beaked bird wary of our passage, or a bullying stone, unchaperoned in a spiraling sandbox, or a slap to the back of the head by the swift palm of a correcting mother for some […]