Hip swagger,black coat,bellyful of kittens— sun-shadow brume of chimney-ash dander—tightrope-walking fencesthat lean like drunks beyond the water’s edge, crooked, corroding—salt-battered,wind-battered, […]
I lost consciousness during liftoff. When I came to, you had appeared. You were floating outside the meter-wide porthole of
Apollo is stalking again this summer,flaunting his meaty thighs, letting flyhis arrows. Kings summon oracles,ask: Who is the abomination?Whom
Where do the dead live? In the dark. This gorgeous marble model of a windowless Roman house is in
When the fire dies the city hits me like the Dow Jones. I write, I talk, I do. The hedge
Most of the newly dead don’t know what they want anymore, and that’s a good thing. But some sure as
Ebbing, water swivels into the groves of mother earth’s spinecollidingcrackingcrashing buoys silently spectatewadingbouncingbobbingsinking i do not feel princess-like wearing this
