-
the strain of hogweeds
clung to hillsides like
-
-
and your head swells grotesque
to bursting from your dark black suit
-
It won't matter then
when your eyes begin to fade
-
These were trees once
tall as the changeling sky
-
-
-
creatures half concealed by
cocoon remains rush about
-
roots and limbs born out again
as skyward green
-
th' edges iz easiest to find
easies' ta fit inta place
-
-
a wisp of smoke curled
round the edge of taste
-
Will you crack the old
dry twig of language
-
even then with that blood-chilled future
hanging fresh like a widow's web
-
He may not give his all enjambing verses
haphazardly across each random page,
-
death will come
slowly quietly
-
-
the lake wimpled bits of sun
thin pines stood breathing by
-
-
the puppet primps and preens, convinced
a self exists which animates the limbs,
-
And if there's a doubt in your starry mind,
dear god I ask that you lay me low.
-
-
the spring of life will yield to snows
that fold its memory into ruin—
-
from the moment i looked up and saw
just over my head your memory
-
we'll fill your firmament with banes
with vapors bleeding deadly rains
-
will your long slender roots
reach down and tickle my
-
Joy came
whispering through autumn oaks
-
We are small yellow suns
suspended together in space
-
like morning rays on cloudscapes scattered far,
igniting new horizons to vibrant shades of faith.
-
-
her silhouette flickered about but seen
from the farthest corners of vision
-
-
i did not even come to conquer / the death still pits of my fears
though i stood at the precipice / and pondered their hollow depths
-
-
Your eyes recede into shadow
old dark pits lined ...
|