Did you catch it, that squall of a nuptial bed? The acorns’ flew to mountains overhead keen to be laughing it off, our bounteous ridge…
The beginning of seasons, you herald new calm before, beginning, and between none. The oldest of bases, the dawning of psalms: between which I…
Dearest documentation, the kindest passing as we touch these cloacas, these primitive passions tamed into something lean: typing, typing, it seems like an odd way…
Each gulp of death casts its moment deep into gullies, gaps like torrents easing into place; appeasing this space with the rhythms exchange, not long dormant…
Remaining uxoric, I wince at the phase of the passing moods, the lingering praise for deeds only faked, for freedoms won in a moment I…
Lingering here still I sense that blackness lingering there will it lapse to sadness as only those reasoned to kindness know not why the bell…
I do not know why I write these songs tonite– the sun-shining Light beneath these lumbering tides– but still I see, still I rhyme: an…
Why do we poke at the evening with light? Still why does it seem that the dusk is contrite? Myriad eyes have seen, many teeth…