Category Archives: Poetry

it is not
an anti-depressant.
it is
an anti-seizure.

the coffee tastes
like grapefruit. tastes
like green hay.

twenty eight ravens all
lined up on a railing.
their presence,
a making sense.

no idea
what the hand is
doing.
the turn signal
is on. you
notice the turn signal
is on.

oil slick bird
ten feet above gray
eyed concrete on a matte
brown pole making
sound like falling
water.

even though it’s not
cold enough, i am
still going to wear
this scarf
today.
no one is stopping
me.

alone
in a vessel.

you noticed her
when she arrived.
you did not look directly
at her. then,
you looked directly
at her.

the rain is quick
now on the heels
of snow.

the bathroom, tiny
bathroom, fiberglass
bathroom, quarter inch
bathroom. no bath.

a strange mixture
of mostly naked
and digitally manipulated
bodies, violence
of varying degrees
of intent (both

this is how
i look. i smile
when the camera points
at me, smile
when i pass others on the street.

having forgotten her
birth,
she forgets
my name.

morning
gray, leaning
into heather.

the bones
move, are moved,
so the head aches.

your why
casts about
with its variegated shadow.

your want,
eclipsed, engulfed.

eyes tick
to the clock.

not wanting to be
alone, so,
coffee shop. so,
library. so, bar.

outside, the sun
is setting.
inside, the face
is blue.

clear-framed
glasses. a
woolen hat. pure
wool. made only
of wool.

not at all looking
forward to, though
not actively
dreading.

so far
unable to generate
any interest.

our executions are now
a lot more
public.

indeterminate age.
initially indeterminate age.
large glasses more oval
than square more oval
than circle but still
circle still square.

a box full
of pastries, sweet
fruited pastries, baked
and savory pastries.