The purple bowl with the dopey-eyed lama flies through the air, landing face-down on the hardwood, oatmeal exploding from all sides like an eruption of sticky silt landing heavy in a circumference of at least twelve feet from the epicenter. …
Tag: Poem
Intergalactic
The stars spin around her room, like we are underwater, in a fishbowl in a house in a life of coming and going. The rain has started and the mornings are so dark, stars bleed into the hallway, on the …
Unknown person
Afterwards, I am a subtraction. On the periphery. Exterior. Pinched into thin concaving bows of salty smoke. I inhale, and blow out. Ballooned contouring at a distance. Alone, I am here. I can’t remember if it was by choice. …
A few poems
Yeah, still digging through life, you guys. Going back back back through the archives of old websites to find old poetry. Thought I’d post a few here––ones that won’t be getting a rewrite/revision/repurpose. These aren’t my best by any means, …
