Category Archives: Poetry

You can’t conceive of anything different, carrying to term ebbs and flows of life. Outward mobilities. How to extend a hand?How to grab an outstretched hand while exhausted, treading water?Somehow the glow, safety and care, threatens more than cold horrors lurking below.You’d rather not know. Drowning, now. Inaction is action for the gently indifferent, indecisionContinue reading “Stranger”

Well, I’ve been hibernating Staring at these broken wings More pitiable, really, than the bush turkey I’ve seen with one black feathered wing dragging his shadow shroud, burden unallaying His feet still work. The claws that build and tend his mound take him where he likes to go.

You’re a modern Dionysius; madness, masks, vanity—divine. Followers, slaves to worship a golden god of endless ritual. When you stare lifeless into that broken mirror the shards of the made-up can never hurt you.

Be nice to Alec, he’s had a hard life. Two bug eyes, facing up, proboscis made of hair, extended down past slender shoulders and wide hips. A whisper in a hidden corner, there he is. Picking up the dead houseflies, dissolving. Reforming. The endless life cycle. Outside, Alec is there, of course, mirage-coded, he holdsContinue reading “Alec”

I think we might be doomed— two avoidants circling the abyss I don’t know if your outstretched hand mirror mine would make me more or less likely to jump I think what draws us together is we’re always out of reach I don’t know I’m tired I don’t know anything anymore