I walked
through the park
alone and dreaming,
as a black cloud
billowed behind,
tumultuous
and seething.
Typewriter Ribbons
Typewriter ribbons
stretched taut across
an expanse of dreaming.
The voyage, bottomless
wells of ink, clinking.
An age of messages seeps
The Last Lullaby
There are too many bombs in the air.
There are too many screams in the night.
O’ Sweet Mercy, look at us
from your perch in the sky
and whisper to the wicked,
“Son, put down your knife.’
—
Continue reading “The Last Lullaby”
A Broken Human Machine
Tangled
bird’s-nest beard
stooped ‘neath wet blankets
a broken human machine
meant to quality-check fear
The Cutting Box
One thousand cuts,
drip-dry, spot-by-spot…
I haven’t bled to death,
but I am so, so tired
of hearing the thunder
from those anguished drops.
Many Thousands of Miles
Many thousands
of miles below
those icy kingdoms,
where hope freezes
and sticks against
metal things, Continue reading “Many Thousands of Miles”
Pits and Canyons
Begin your life,
bundles and sheafs,
thumbtacks and tape,
carefully leave
each picture, placed,
level, straight, spaced,
accordingly. Continue reading “Pits and Canyons”
Summer Eyes
“You seem sad,”
she said, summer-eyed,
through the window Continue reading “Summer Eyes”
Worth Keeping
A heavy heart, leadened
by the weight of pain, hangs
like a folding star within
some misbegotten frame. Continue reading “Worth Keeping”
Veil of Ashes
A veil of ashes
obstructed my view,
yet I could hear
the tide’s swell crashing,
mixing what was left
of me into you.