My Now Last Year
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New chapbook: The Ambush of Time
“A fucking bereavement” The Ambush of Time
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We do not need to ask
He threw out the maps to his final resting place God said, “Isn’t it interesting, that you have to ask, does God want us to keep ourselves from being conquered?”...
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Just a cautionary lecture
Paul Simon is drinking sour wine on the patio across from the edge where living finds its final step I will stop breathing to his voice like locomotion to stop...
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A small man will come shortly
the tailor came traveling to the end of the weathered night this two-cast melody sombre like dance in the gust of a broken jube we hold no pearls to the...
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Ashpark Criminals in the Night of the Sun
the gown of the moon’s squire coughs terribly grappling with daisies and walnuts, protected hymns, here the echo of the sheepish sound domesticates, it does move to shore with the...
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Where pardoned stations do dea
feckless underneath Enceladus stringing savior tiles to both coasts like razor soft grimaces and filters just where one protruding proud snake demonstrates the ghost of a lamb so, too, do...
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These or the Shepherd Songs of Detroit, Damascus, and the Delaware Communities
dinner companions sold out to troubadours fighting the willing snakes of ice cream boulevards like some patronage across bleeding sands staying in the cabin with coffee and mercury blankets keep...
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sternglas mecha-quartz counting towards my last thoughts
A cobbler in Hamburg thinking of the perfect way that I might keep track of my last moments on Earth passing past God, who does not want me to die...
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In capitalist and familial abusive prison
My self-sacrifice was taken advantage of like angels falling from trees I was taken prisoner in every way forward under a tilting mayoral dusk suffering psychological abuse for fun, just...
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parks and posts
you cannot forge a relationship with pedestrian clouds, these post free things financially consumed by fear like summers’s apt going to buy bones for lost parks new windmill skin like...