Obsolete Glory
I assure you, I am falling apart.
My toes peel like grapes, like
Movements
I am concerned with your movements, your hands
kneading dough on the kitchen island, stretching
Strange Creatures II
When I created Strange Creatures, I wanted to take a deep and sometimes uncomfortable well of desire, and present it in a form that wouldn’t incriminate me.
Thrush and Billow
Thrush and willow,
boulder and billow,
Driftwood Vol. II
Volume II of the Driftwood Poetry Journal came out recently. I was privileged to be able to work with the Vol I poets
Jupiter and All Its Moons
Jupiter, and all its moons, will hang
above, a cherry pit full of
An Answer in Sonnet
‘Tis Silence moves its fingers 'cross my skin;
it searches, tenuous and then precise,
Rough Lumber
Who arranged the stones that form this wall?
For they have not placed them cleanly, cheek to cheek.
Skullduggery
I have a skull
and a collarbone lurking,
Walking to the Theatre
Under the layer of asphalt, compacted
into a sheet for roads, is a layer of
Entropy of Hours
Our bodies are falling back to dust
in an entropy of hours. Our teeth,
Reaching Land
On Pender Island, sunk within
the slow, coastal glacier of fog,