The moon’s a haiku
tonight: a movement, yet, still
there, like you to me.
(December 12, 2016)
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Spider
by
I waittoo many patternsto negotiateacross this gapbetween hereand somewhereother— familiartropes etched alongdarker rhythmswhich throb sobeneath politeconversationI waitfor the tremorsto flow from thesethreads to prove thisworld I’ve createdto be morethan mad hopefor some otherway some otherlife to feed uponsome answerto call my ownI waitstill as if waitingwere answer enoughfor the cocoonedquestions left danglingin the patterns—husks I’ve eatenempty skins I’ve leftlike old suitsfrayed along the edgesout of dateand ill-fitting(December 10, 2016) -
Sidereal Intent
I am a clutter of clichés,a rabbit scenting the wind,an unreliable narratorto my predicated life.I wait for the next syllableto fall without expectation,just fear for what I’ve become:a simple category to fillwith a few sub-topics,mundane and predictable.Wondering what lies I have leftto tell, I stutter about the truth,too uncomfortable to venturea glance at the road’s wreckage.(December 9, 2016) -
She Asks, He Answers
by
Knife tips slipthinly betweenveins and flesh.Somewhere herea voice speakstoward a fulcrum.He cannot moveone to an otherwithout self-mockery.He hears noresonant echoin her question.Somewhere here,he answers.(December 7, 2016) -
Stasis
I have forgottenI am lost—it is familiarto be here,as if I knew whereI am, and was comfortable.I’ve forgottenenough to know,yet not enoughto piece together.Fear lingers on edgesslipping closerwith each new losseach new creation.(December 6, 2016) -
Ripple
by
I prefer shadows,light’s darker part,dappling a slow afternoonthrough the trees.One can see easierfrom the shadows,than beneath light’sbrighter glare.Like metaphor translates,clarity’s a contrast:more than this or this,more the leaf atremble.You, me, and what we seeshadow the day’s ripple.(December 4, 2016) -
egg
if I break myself openleave the languageI speak to myselfwithout thoughtwithout hesitationthere is no atmosphereto burn layers awayI fall and fallwithout definitionwithout wordsopen silent in loveI am not a ghostin desperate needwithout hopewithout redemptionpoetry’s coy exchangefolded and tucked awayhere then again laterextracted in disregardto what I’ve become(December 5, 2016) -
Case Study: Infatuation
by
“an iterating mirage,the what for which we search.”Ann LauterbachAs rudiment to his desire,the why not the what or how,her laughter embedsalong his strangled veinsto justify the marginshe’s inscribed within.Surreptitiously aghastat one’s perception,take note, like a childfingering a taste of frosting,how guilt and delight wrap,like fog or his myopia,around translucent elementsorbiting his befuddled heart.(November 30, 2016)
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beyond speech’s first function
as leaf’s tremble’sresonant in a gasptruth’s white noiserises from the pagebefore us allcluttered into time(November 29, 2016) -
Life’s Constant
Too often drivingto work, or takingout the trash,I want to extractmy skull from this face,peel back the horrorin thin layers, andtoss them asidefor the ants to claimas their own.(November 29, 2016) -
seer
it’s time to listen and listenclose for I aim to speak trueto speak to you you who claimto hear no lies I speak to youhow do I you ask know how tospeak along convoluted linesto trace patterns in pattersuntil a simplicity fallsonto the page like bones rattlingfrom a wooden cup how do Iyou ask again enter your wordsand speak so of what you knowI listen to you and pull time closethen speak the patterns parsed(November 22, 2016) -
Vanishing Point
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I am a holeopen onto myself;I am a hole,a door,an absencebetween rooms:a vacuum devoursall I have becomelike light bends into darkalong some erased other’scurved horizon, slippingbetween mountains’edge and winter’slast full moon.(November 21, 2016) -
acquiescence
one must speakeven if nonsenseunfolds toward non sequituras an attemptto vanquish the voiceof god’s quiet madnessfor silence remainslike smoke collapsinga violent responseeven as bodiesare tossed with easeupon yet another pile(November 18, 2016)
subtext 