Archive for

a catalogue

cy is short for cyan, which is supposed to sound like sigh, and i do. her name was meant to be hissyphus. a parody of the gods, i got her to give meaning to the mythos of grey, to move the rocks i did not know how to. she doesn’t roll. she sits on my … Continue reading

egg hatched

opened to the distance of being in a bed with someone falling out of love with you here i am again softened by the want of kissing the corner of your mouth only to find it rounded like the sun that will set like the night scattered as flour edges cut like a cedar spring … Continue reading

battle of the nile

there laying in an attempt to watch the air in your hand it is the memory of the name of the widest river you used to know that flows out first when you are promising that this my arms my legs my body swimming with yours is it all there is to recall though your … Continue reading

time off

dear dear, what does it mean to work? is your every day filled with meaning? do you mean to make it to the next day? are your coworkers mean? are hospitals demeaning? or is it all just mean, an average, a lump, a benign thing that takes the excitement of life and death alike? i … Continue reading

dark was the night cold was the ground

dear dear, in the thick legs of nights like these where i can hear the echoes upstairs beginning to get ready to go out, i wonder what space remains to be discovered? there are the usual stars that hang like the feet of dead men, the small caverns of the sea somewhere in someplace wet from the … Continue reading

the slow sad death of kacper niburski

against the longest winter even a struggling weed will be celebrated by sunlight when the snow is sloughed in the same way that love feels like melting like all things do eventually the pop you shouldn’t drink your family dog happy to see you the waters the moon the space between pulling your clothes off … Continue reading

reverse birth

i killed my first patient. she was young, dressed by light, poked by the first grey hairs that waved like the slippery sign of spring crushing the ice of an ancient lake. she wore a warm orange sweater. her nails were painted blue. and she was going to die. i greeted her, took her history. she smiled throughout. said … Continue reading

about what

help i am alive which has been problematic since the beginning when it was said with floppy light that there was only life or death   what about the in between what about the night moon wanting to caress your head what about those who wonder where all feelings come from and if they can … Continue reading

cadaver dave

with you i sometimes think of i thoughtless   what will it be like to go where the gone goes what will happen to the dreams unaccomplished or conversations unfinished   where will the people who i only met once in a dizzying array of sunflowers seen too little and subways seen too much find … Continue reading


Dear dear, I want to give you the words I never did, to tell you how to say things that need to be said in never. There is little to be said now, which is why I have written so much. I am trying to fill in the space to make you feel less like … Continue reading