Tumbleweed Trash

gazing out third story windows dancing in moonlight drinking – children hanging from streetlamps swaying – wind gusts passing through back alleys – tumbleweed trash

Second Stage – A Hybrid Cento

we watch and we are always here – fog everywhere. fog up the river, where it flows among green aits and meadows; fog down the river, where it rolls defiled among the tiers of shipping, and the waterside pollutions of a great (and dirty) city. darkness gathers all around. As the streetlights by the river…

Shipwrecked Sojourner

there’s a coarse wind blowing shifting sands across a hagard shore once proud vessel cast upon salt licked rocks reduced to matchsticks waterlogged pulp splintered splayed in the hungry heat of tropic swelter rotting cancer claimed by capricorn bastard son of dead stars lost amid the calm of night a voyage ends desert isle distant…

Brother Julius

tell me brother julius of nights spent in the open beneath quilted darkness damp heat in the wee hours lost and ignored in a street lamp solar system how you wandered deep into desolate suburban wastes resting affluence of noctilucent methane clouds hanging cold on the edge of night satin sprawled amidst dead heaven how…

Diamond Eyes and Fireflies

do you still stare up to the star filled sky vast and open glade in the forest of night – do you lose yourself in the endless ocean weight of body anchored while the spirit swims free – are you reaching beyond the atmosphere to the cold vacuum of space plucking diamond eyes from its…

Alien Lights Just Before Daybreak

lights are so eerily beautiful early morning after a rain – serene haloed against the smoke and cobalt of a cloudy sky just before the sun burns it away – how they float with phantasmal grace against the ink of black pen stroke forestry – writhing on the pavements in halogen ecstasy quick silver tracing…

Dead Set

passed a deer last night – not in the way you imagine though – no majestic forest king grazing in the overgrowth – ‘stead he was sprawled out like a burst sausage – there on the side of the road dead eye gaze – split scarred torn and broken – on a bed of dirt…

The Host

they live in the air vents i hear them – there whispered ramblings distorted muttering inchoherent mumbling – are they plotting – vying to descend in the dead of night to pierce my larynx enter through the gash speak through my teeth – can we share this husk until it decays bloating and rotting in…

Time and Typewriters

last night I dreamt I moved into a new apartment large and sprawling labyrinthine design with white walls and wooden furniture dilapidated papers strewn paint peeling i entered off the street in the dead of night surrounded by nameless people who didn’t acknowledge me I recall a writing desk with what at first glace appeared…