i don't know what to say about this one except that i love it. the idea of being "let in" to the night rather than 'out into' the night is unique...
you scribbles have always ended so well. i particularly like this one. 'show me something that will ease' -- it's an incomplete thought that is so...
i want to hear you read this poem. you know i've always said poems are meant to be read aloud. that's why i always thought it a lame gimmick when...
'everyone should stoop and help gather bones' -- edible you're a goddamn genius, you know that. far and away one of the best lines of poetry i've...
is this an old one? lines sound familiar 'wicks whipped by a common flame' in particular. i have an image of you reading it for some reason, can't...
you nailed it, edible. 'naked and spiteful in the slick neon' that is a beautiful flow. and that ending 'boom boom and flatline'. you've gotten...
Today I found a fetus in my cup, Made of sugar. Emmanuel Sugarbaby. I looked around to see if anyone else had seen it but they hadn’t. Or, if they...
The grim noire of night is old magic made to spite the cold fury of the sun. Sleep as hard skin armoured in the little death of knowing.
We used to be lovers twined like tarot around a love of syllables and anal sex magic confined to coffee and cigarettes can kill you but so can...
We record it because it happens We record births and deaths We record marriages and we record assaults We record ourselves on video and watch it...
(A farewell to the house on Elsmere Avenue) They pave over memories in a city built of spare engine parts seeping an oily kind of motor city...
I've become a cleaning machine a dusting devil a floor-scrubbing maniac I use that powder with the bleach in it to clean the bathroom and I...
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