ii.

i. black coat / I see death / in the moon / and hawks nest / one worm / New York drinks the flowers, I could imagine, if I ever had a dream it was not like this / bone split open and blooms / ii. it’s the snow, it’s the / cold / two… Read More ii.

A sea becomes.

Of one memory, one for the end of the dark does not lie, I will not lie in it; darkness perfused I shut the window; here he bleeds, here he lies, though nothing is there. In furrows, mercy, it is laughable. The Earth succinct in waves in a lonely larva the dead poet’s dreams. Stand… Read More A sea becomes.

dust to dream.

dust / to the dream /flowers fall to the glass moonand her fingertips/ in the/ ephialtes /light and / cosmic touch; you tried to /ruin me / but I’m notAtë or Ares. Spume of the oceanI will not drown /you / in my threnody / war feet / burst like the applein the trench /… Read More dust to dream.

Worst Sentence Challenge & New Collaboration Project. (Challenge Ends in One Week!)

Hello everyone. Remember that poll? 🦗 …With the collaboration and challenge topics? 🦗 Well then. This is awkward. To recall, we had a poll to vote on for the next collaboration or challenge project. The topic that polled the highest was the worst sentence challenge. What else was interesting were the topics that tied in… Read More Worst Sentence Challenge & New Collaboration Project. (Challenge Ends in One Week!)

Novel Collaboration (“Identify”): Chapter 2. Who wants to write Chapter 3?

Here are the guidelines and rules if you are interested in participating in this project: Leave a comment expressing direct interest in writing or claiming a chapter. First come, first serve. You must comment your interest in writing a chapter. If you, however, send in a chapter without expressing interest beforehand, the submission will not be accepted,… Read More Novel Collaboration (“Identify”): Chapter 2. Who wants to write Chapter 3?

I

I, memory, I, a membrane and ghost meronym to memory and free— I am the thorn of flowers in your mouth, and the foot of the leaf between the limbs of a small tree halved like quarters, and still dying, I, memory, I, a membrane and ghost meronym to memory and free— Ancestress of loss… Read More I

Five A.M.

my own deathvineyards of moons,a shallow depthof the sea, Venus sinks,I drowned and criedin my sleep, died like the ocean,born in splitminds,like the magentaof mother’s womb; a vortex of nothingfair and bonyfor the ghostof mine does not grieve these amputations of mind;absence of the moon’s bare-bones, I see the lizard limbsof the moonrise as I… Read More Five A.M.

street art

death / split bone / a fish vomits / dream; heir or heiress, the yellow trees are fatherless; I remember the troubadour trees and their infant skeletons his blood to each leaf no seduction of the moon when there was no moon to run the drumming of tree molars and the caw of moon-eyed birds,… Read More street art

Ocean to Ocean.

Ophelia flowers leaving  to the excessive  blindness by the fingernails of psithurism, and trees that inherit the blood red; ankles sink into the ocean stars come to the end of light—the angry light that feasts  beyond the last bone from the tree, and dark waves beyond the terminus of the skies familiar in graveyard shifts… Read More Ocean to Ocean.