POETRY

“Poetry is language at its most distilled and most powerful.”
—Rita Dove
Snow Falls from Branches

Should have found a job by now; should have slept in the night;
should have boiled old coffee before noon.

Electric Eels, Finishing School, Teeth

Millions of Americans have been affected by identity theft. It’s probably the greenhouse gases.

Sadness is a Sin

If my life was the size of my arm, I would stretch it out for you.

Dis Place Ment

People have always coped with flooding, and they learned to cope with death.

Vase

The storm passes without snow.
The car waits loyally in the back lot.

Mom, in Her Dementia, Steals Oranges

and apples, mackintosh mostly, but any kind left in The Pub
at the Assisted Living Place

The River

I myself should never have been born

Drowning in sky

I have observed, the theorist
I am

Existential

four-thirty a.m.

First

Long after midnight, we’re talking about our first time

Welcome To The House of Static

here is the sky in stop motion, flickering,
a still shot in monochrome

heavy rain
The Plot

Long after midnight, we’re talking about our first time

woman at bar
After She Told Me You Pushed Her Down the Stairs

Empty vessels
make the most sound, I think,
as you rip the fairy lights off the handrail.

Despairathon

You’ve spent a lifetime training
for this.

On the Night Row-Houses Across the Street Catch Fire

You let the yellow glow
from eye sockets. The building up the street
is burning faster and faster.

You can’t make them love you, no matter how artfully you betray yourself

Try not to see your own predicament in every fucking thing.

The Body is a Sin

The sin is existing.

A Way of Seeing

Just starlight and some small scribbling across vinyl.

REVENGE SCENE

Okay, picture this: We’re in an elevator. The elevator shuts down. It doesn’t matter where we’re going, only that we’re alone.

Back Suplex

Gravel-scatted hell &
we were blessed to be able
to hold on for even a heartbeat