Barrel-black

This time I’ll take harbor in the barrel-black charges, in the messy forewarnings forming harmonies of beaten blue advice to pepper these already seasoned wounds in red. This time, when the shots are trained, expect I’ve learned my lesson, and I’ll prove it by a want for words when finally the peals fall soft, so […]

Penance

Today, my name is bedlam, and I etch its letters aimlessly upon these calmest hues of sunset, the place where rust horizons lose their voices and resign to bruise-blue depths before they pass. Tomorrow, I’ll be violence in the dew that pearls on flower blooms to counterfeit a morning for the capsized glimpse of order […]

Clockwork garden

I set a clockwork garden from the sins we saved away, from symptoms of the prayer we buried deeply in a quiet place with confidence the stony soil would hold. Today it fruits with vitrified reflections as its vines meander jade throughout the pickets painted white so long ago, betraying the perfection in its stannic […]

Walnut shell

I hollowed out the walnut trees. I stripped away their leaves. I left the shells beneath them with the smell of mud and atrophy. And somewhere there’s a fire cutting loose these lisles of smoke that rest in evanescent trails and sink, the clement stock of wood that wasn’t mine and wasn’t ready threading piquant […]

Used to her

Used to sleeping on the water. Used to fleeting riddles On the whims of tides beneath her Making satire from her thirst So we could purge the salt and blame. Used to contradictions In the elegies she overhears, So pure as mud and masquerades To canonize the idol sayings Used to drain what’s left of […]

Lovely morning

god I love those mornings stroked with cigarette romances, the filthy sage illusions throwing praise beneath fluorescents where a sunrise comes in wired white and grey to pay the frail walls attention. I live for the disheveled furrows filtering and sifting every thinning whisper of its oxygen to snub the pilot light, for cottled shrines […]

Before me

I’ve been another man before, in former days when summer made a warmer way with words than what this poetry of broken ones and sunken ground suggests. I’ve been another grand design, and hasn’t it been wonderful to follow what I thought for plans and when I fell too short of them, to stand alone […]