Category Archives: Poetry

Capitalism quieted,

a gentle
and faded
obscurity.

the breath
is a swinging door.

before this
current iteration of
Human,
others lived.

in the foreground,
many people
do many things.

it isn’t a city
anymore.

the metal buildings
of the fish processing plants
are a pleasing shade
of blue.

in spite i sit inside
on a sunny day.

the spent oil tanks
eventually fill.

the window
is blown out.

are you a
reductionist?

a way to
attempt
to be
happy

you can stick
to your guns,
i’ll stick to my
feet.

the land isn’t
bothered.

folded and tucked
into a drawer

when the wind blows
the photos blur.

it isn’t
disassociating.

without
the carrot
of killing,

i haven’t much,
still,
i’ve an excess.

he walks ahead of me
on the wooden dock
and i wonder,
somewhat sheepishly,
why he is still
alive.

this i am
clear about.

it’s a quiet street.

i don’t drink beer
anymore

open your eyes
and there’s a
rock.

the air is very clear.