Month: January 2026
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low water empty bottles
child thieves wearing masks with baptized horns employed by what calls itself a remnant of a failing government executioners waving impunity, standing at attention with raging power, unstrung cowards, furnaces...
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Tabled Lotharingians and Belgian Salt Coroners
under the piles of a Petersen grab condemning the authority of saints here we will conjure the difference of an American mouth grating prayer birds that did not dismiss the...
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Marissa Nadler Mid-Sentence
the maltese doorsteps countering foot petals and tramping about the doorstop-broken kevel Marissa Nadler chalked upon the strumming downstroke midway contestant of parched blue parallel coffeeway feathers singing stolen hymns...
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wretched hillside resurrection in signature stent bar-lines
The wretched and the lonely among the giants of Stater Bros. in hillside falling and calling of San Bernardino and steak knife playwrights tossing the salsa like a dream-line across...
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Lapping corbel hearts in the milk and the ashes
I thought you and I could go somewhere, “oh, boy,” said God, truly beside Himself – acting like I was an inferno of blankspots, knowing I would not strum returned...
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grocery story bought spanish horses
sun breeds like republic degrowth politicians foaming orifice kisses awake at night like drums adoring the storm drains where the diamonds sign where mother raised me like casual haunting missing...
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hearts and tomatoes
fettered in altered clandestine towels of tomorrow’s dead praises we left behind finding gardening pretentious tomato collections on the back of giants now again where black olives and perfect organic...
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the size of a mini-stroke is a teasing haunt
so close to end carbon streets filled gas lighting never immersed in the nighttime voices of doctored files where I came from they always had a secret to display if...
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When I die advancing on the enemy
slashing ice tires like merchant class penchant elephant stokers never afraid to die or have a stroke in the streets of revolution though the shopping carts in the streets might...
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In the hopes of my last year, again
Now being more sure, with hickory roots, that this coming year will be my last I partition the ceiling vent with small dog collars and coffee shops, all on a...