Tonight the fists comes pounding down! The night sky reveals a humble eye, around the corner they kick and strike his body there. The jolt, the clinch, that gasp of air, leave us weak while he makes a dire sound.   From gun, spark then expel a round, and miss his head, behind the store […]


He becomes the bruise which marks his mind, for time to come. Gun in hand, weighs a chance to lose. He becomes the bruise, by battery of fists that thrash by two. A time of trust cannot be won. He becomes the bruise, which marks his mind, for time to come.

I Looked at Those Pictures

Your soft hands—waves before the blue blur of a daub expression. Your soft hands—lay below the boulders, not moving, out stretched on the ground—covered in a casing of dry mud.   Your young body—dances with others on a cliff top. Your young body—piled beneath the cusp of ravine, mix with part earth, part pebbles and […]

Open Road

One day he decided to pack up and leave the spot he was in and go to another. He had no idea that the endless cracks in the road would become the scruples of caverns that connected the lines on both hands. Miles and miles it seems, gliding the millimeter of senses. Senselessness is imposed […]

Scarce Seeds – In Seven Parts

I. Lights Technical creativity. Spasmodic light. Outbursts inside the ear. “Saw it”, he said— Bad dreams, webbed feet and hands. Holding on to a feather off some main street. Could it be Central? At night street walking. Peering into woven tree limbs and into windows… …and he said it was not possible. II. Corridors Many […]