Your clock tells poor time

Your clock tells poor time. Wound tighter than the knock-knuckled fingers Crimping the cigarette at your thin, burned lips, Gasping, as you pinch your own airway checking the time, Your clock brings nothing. An agent of shock and collapse, Pressing and laughing, Holding a carrot and digging its indecent heels through your side, Your clock […]

Who’s Right to Refuse?

No one who trustingly consults his own soul will be disposed to deny the entire radicalness of the propensity in question.      —Edgar Allan Poe, The Imp of the Perverse      I have long enjoyed the eerie and obscure writing of Edgar Allan Poe. He had an uncanny ability to internalize the dissent of his […]

Conflicting Inclinations and Internal Contention: Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Fall of the House of Usher”

      Battling melancholy and anxiety for much of his life, Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849) wrote often on the plagues of the human mind, and of the ever mounting toil of maintaining some semblance, while one’s more infective thoughts bubble to the surface. During his time the psychological sciences were newly burgeoning, and mental illness was […]

If not for You, would I

Mine is but a step of Your marathon. A single grain of sand, carried Wave, by wave, by wave Through the depths of your warm, salty embrace. It is a needle on a seedling, Sprouting beneath the ancient shade of Your canopy, Nourished by Your sun, and rooted in the soil Tilled by Your hand. […]