Second hands and pending evenings

Fractures in the window panes like arteries that bleed in colder air so that my shallow breaths are cloudy. Lullabies like needles piercing through the thin veneer of dreams to eulogize an hour spent awake, to canonize the words I hear in nightmares of a dying instant when the silence between seconds writes an epitaph […]

The sea and i

These days the seas and I are cordial. These days I stow my memories in currents who from time to time subside to lay a deeper witness of the patterns in the sand I’ve barely walked. These days I make acquaintances with ocean swells above the trenches of forgotten moments stirring, abandoned memoirs written when […]

Maury’s pitch

Above him, windows punched in columns of cement reflected gloomy skies and cables pouring voltage into offices of people trapped like mice. Maury wondered at the camber of the buildings as he walked, how they didn’t topple in the slightest quake. His interview began at 9, but he was early, so he searched their daunting […]

Fruit trees and suffering

Perhaps I’m still addicted to the sweetness of the pain. Perhaps the fruit that poisons is the one I hunger for because the suffering gives cause to air complaint. So I rest beneath the trees with little shade, whose caustic pitch runs down to burn my eyes and bloom the tears I need to reap […]

Bridges, bridges

Calculate the distance from allusions to their words, dig beneath expressions for a spring from which the implications rise and only open bigger gaps for all this insufficient rhetoric to bridge. Somewhere underneath the soundness of infinitives in concert, playing dialectics much too high to parse for ears so trained on quiet musings, the deafness […]

Statue garden

Spiders in the statuary, And she walks alone among Them preening thorns like Retrices to let the blood Embittered by their stings. – Webs amid the relics Seizing hold to an Illusion that the garden’s Gates are open, that the Flowers here are blooming In the shade of dying stones. – Ravens in the olive […]

Some days

Some days I wait for winter from behind a window in a room with little light. Sometimes I wish for darkness in the morning when the summer sun cuts sharply through the room to cast the dust upon my walls in high relief. Somehow the smell of flowers lingers acrid in my nose, but when […]