Category Archives: Poetry

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.

inside,
no problem.

a woman holds
a worm
in her palm.

i went into a
public space

safe to touch
another.

surrounded by
the pale blue haze
of its diesel engine,

the floor feels cold,
though it is not wet.

terrified men
cowering with weapons.

a
version of the truth

various vegetable oils.

it’s nice to watch
wind.

terror answers the door.
terror grips the gun.
cowardice squeezes.

due to your
general anonymity
i’ve projected all of my
hopes and wants
onto you.