Brand "X" , and ACME, poems and stories. Surreal, sappy, funny, horrific, and human.
Wingbeats drum my thin window The moth is frantic for the feeble light Powder prints on the glass shown out as mica glitter And i am reminded of bird hits and premature burials These things, innocent and pure, do not have duplicity. Only nature. My desklamp, a false guide. My window, invisible. These i must […]
MoreIn the wrenching spell of nightmare, something cadaverous, phosphorescent on the forest floor. Bleached like a drowned man months missing. Current-carried, caught on some subterranean thing. Tell me it isn’t you. Tell me. Oh, my Son. My life.
MoreAs we sat in stuffy waiting, you came by, lady with the cane. Regal in your latter years. And I had a flash dream, unreasoning. You in white apron and slippers, sounding your steps on creaky pine. Your support- a bannister with loose pickets. And you did not rely on it, did you?
MoreLie in it and when you want sleep seek permission through invention of position and if that’s too feeble then touch-type the words to Lucy sky diamonds or expert texpert choking smokers ah you got segments now wake up too soon too late carry on with fond regret of its absence
MoreI walked with Clarice today. She wore a skirt with accordion pleats, An angora sweater, and real pearls. Her black shoes had round toes and straps. Like a doll’s. Her hair in Shirley Temple ringlets. They bounced when she skipped, and she did, twice. We didn’t hold hands. I wasn’t sure if she would permit […]
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